Mostly Ink / Writing

Battle Cries for the Twenty-First Century

by sarahtheboring / Scrabbling Dabbler

[A story of love, ninjas, rambling conversations about nothing and horrible fanfiction. Written for NaNoWriMo 2003. Excerpted. Many of the random snippets in this story, including character names and chapter titles, were brought on by the NaNo forums' Dare Thread, a list of prompts and challenges. A list of those is included at the end under Dares, so I can shift blame accordingly. This story is not based on anything; all the titles / movies / etc. are fictional, which meant that I could pad word count by describing them all.]

Part 1: Ben Is Never Home
Ch. 1: World Death Rate Holding Steady At 100 Percent

"Where the hell are my pants?"

"Mmfff."

"Jack! Dammit." Shove. By his very slowly clearing powers of perception Jack guessed that the blow came from his roommate's foot – not shod, thankfully, but that was a small mercy at seven o'clock on a Saturday morning.

"Ow! The hell. S'wrong with you?"

"Have you seen my work pants?"

"Being asleep for the last not long enough, no!"

"Well, would you help me look for them?"

"Considering you've just declared yourself to be pantsless, I'm not opening my frigging eyes, thank you very much!"

"Oh yeah, like I'd give you a free show, moron. Come on, I'm gonna be late."

"Mfff." Jack lurched up into a sitting position, yawning, and only after rubbing his eyes did he open them to find his roommate jittering at his bedside, probably coffeed to the gills already, bouncing around like a prizefighter. He was dressed, thankfully, in his tacky polo uniform shirt from Death Star Video and the pants he'd worn the night before.

Jack flung off the covers and padded after his friend into the living room. "Dammit, Ben, I'm not your mother."

"Good thing, I'd be fucked up even worse than I am now. Think they could've gotten into your laundry or something?"

"Not unless you were undressing in my room again."

"Ssh, you'll give it all away, lover. No, then. Shit." Ben looked up from his vague search near the couch. "They're not in the kitchen. What am I, the Naked Gourmet?"

"Naked Chef. And no, they're not, but the coffee is, and it complains less than you do." Jack poured a mug from what was probably the second pot of the morning and took a sip.

"Dammit, Jack. I'm going to be late."

"I'm getting to it, would you calm the hell down? This is the last time I switch the creamer powder with cocaine."

"Bite me," Ben muttered, and darted into his room to search there. Jack returned to the living room and heaved aside a drapery of random garments on the back of the easy chair to find the missing pants. With the mug still in one hand, he plodded back to Ben's room and amiably chucked the offending garment at his roommate's head.

"All right! Thanks, man."

"Mmn." Jack headed back for his room before Ben started to change, and started to wonder why he'd poured coffee when he had every intention of going back to sleep. No matter. It probably wouldn't have much of an effect at this point anyway; he'd finally gotten to sleep around three after a prolonged movie night, and this was flat-out unacceptable for a Saturday morning. He was amazed, now that his faculties were clearing (against his will), that Ben was still able to function -–over-function, actually – after as much sleep or less. But that was Ben for you. He'd be up till midnight at least, no doubt – had to be, since he was working back-to-back shifts at Death Star and at the coffee shop.

Jack set down the half-empty mug and collapsed back into bed.

"Thanks again! I'll be back around ten!" Ben called from the other room.

"No problem. Have fun," Jack replied. Not for the first time, he reflected on what was possibly the one good outcome of having one of those much-scorned nine-to-five jobs. He got to go back to sleep on Saturday morning. It was a small comfort, but after four hours of sleep smugness was oddly soothing.

The previous night, the two friends had held one of their sporadic movie nights, ordering takeout and watching a couple of movies borrowed from Death Star – last night it had been pizza, Zombie Marauders 2, and Space Crusader Red, a request of Jack's which Ben had watched only after being convinced that it didn't suck. It hadn't, although it had run longer than expected and contributed to some rather bizarre dreams in conjunction with the pizza and Coke.

Yawning, Jack fought the passing impulse to get up after all and mess around on the computer for a couple of hours. Sleep first. Then cleaning up; the living room was still a wreck, and it would be a cold day in hell before Ben laid a hand to it. Then free time. Yes. Sleep first.

He dreamt of piloting a giant space cruiser with faulty controls that kept drifting off into nothingness. Again.

Damned movie.

Jack Singer and Benjamin Bernina (Ben, always; he hated the rhythm of his full name, he said, switching on musician mode and usually being vague about it) had first latched onto each other around age ten. Being ten-year-old boys in the eighties, they had both liked video games and Star Wars and all kinds of movies – it was probably the movies that sealed it, and continued to, after all these years. Jack didn't think too much these days about why he was still friends with Ben, despite the divergence their lives had taken – Jack went to college, Ben didn't; Jack worked a nine-to-five with a labyrinthine design firm (a firm, a firm. Sometimes this fact did give him a bizarre feeling), and Ben worked two jobs that would probably be considered underachieving to a casual observer. But they had remained friends. Why they'd remained friends wasn't as important as the fact that they had. Maybe, after all this time, the fact that they had remained in contact through all that time was part of why it worked. Shared history, and all of that.

They had shared an apartment since Jack's second year in college, when Ben had finally gotten fed up with their hometown and moved into the city. They had somehow hammered out an efficient system over the intervening four years – god, four years?! – which Jack was oddly proud of. They split rent evenly, although Jack ended up doing most of the work around the house – apart from cooking, which, if they did bother to eat at the same time, Ben usually did – because of the sheer matter of free time. He had it; Ben didn't. Ben had an open invitation to work less, pay less than half of the rent and pick up more of the chores instead, an invitation he never took. In the absence of a musician's decadent lifestyle of whatever it was musicians did, he chose to work his ass off in a strange form of slow-motion self-destruction. It worried Jack sometimes, but he'd never seemed in any real danger of wearing himself out. He could sleep as hard as he worked, and spent most of his time at home in an apparently comatose state breakable only by violence.

Sometimes Jack wondered if Ben were happy with this arrangement. He could never get a straight answer. Though of course, he could probably afford this apartment on his own, and nothing, at least on his account, was stopping Ben from launching off on his own if he wanted to. There had simply been no obvious reason to do so. Things worked. Ben had always had his job at Death Star Video and something supplemental in the evenings; neither of them had had girlfriends serious enough to consider moving in with – correction. Ben had never had a girlfriend serious enough to consider moving in with. Jack had never had a girlfriend, period. Along with the choice of career and personal style (which wasn't important at all, at least after high school), it was the major divergence between the two, at least from Jack's point of view, and the only one that was Not Talked About. At least, not if one wished to avoid a lengthy screed about gender relations and psychology, why the current dating scene was evil, why scenes were evil in general, why it was ridiculous that people were expected to go about their lives a certain way, why there should be more freedom allowed for personal variation and choices, what all this had to do with the price of tea in China, and how it all related to the velocity of an unladen swallow.

After which Ben usually commented that Jack just couldn't get a date.

It wasn't talked about.

Jack woke again at one in the afternoon. He showered and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that read "Eschew obfuscation," then poured out the now-bitter coffee and brewed a new pot, humming under his breath a song that had been inexplicably stuck in his head since he'd woken up. By the time the coffee and his toast were done he could throttle the writers of the song and the website that had gotten it stuck in his head. Damned catchiness. Well, at least Ben wasn't around to rib him about it.

With the coffee and toast he headed for his room and his computer, skipping the chores for now – wonders of self-control, he reflected darkly, but went ahead anyway. He had nothing else planned for today, what with his terribly bustling social calendar and all. If he couldn't get the apartment reasonably clean by the time Ben finally got back there would be cause to kick himself. Until then, it was toast and coffee and email, productivity be damned. It was Saturday, after all.

It was a terrible habit eating at the computer, but so it went. He set his toast down on one of the random stacks of papers and cardboard-sleeved CDs, yet another bad habit. But even if one were decimated by crumbs somehow, there were plenty to take their place. His collection – he hated that word, though, it conjured up quaint little cubbyhole racks with porcelain thimbles in them – of complementary CDs probably numbered in the several hundreds nowadays. He had started in high school because they were free, and because at the time it was novel for anyone to be giving away internet access. Then they started coming in the mail, and stuck into display boxes at every cheap department store everywhere. And at that point quantity put quality in a headlock and made it beg for mercy.

Apart from junk there wasn't much to read, either – some mailing lists of news that probably interested him and four other hopeless nerds, and a couple of exchanges on various topics that were starting to dwindle out into one-line responses. Jack answered them, hoping he made sense before the coffee fully kicked in, successfully resisted the impulse to open Solitaire, and got up for more coffee. Returning to the kitchen put the hideously catchy song back into his head. Muttering a couple of vague curses on Flash and his own brain cells, Jack poured another mug of coffee. He stood in the doorway for a moment, leaning on the doorframe, surveying the wreckage of the living room. Empty pizza boxes, videos out of their cases – Ben really should have taken them back in when he went to work – and the usual buildup of Ben's random junk. Fine. Wouldn't take long.

For some background sound he put on Space Crusader Red again, with the ulterior motive of intending to find out just what they were talking about in some of the more abstract parts. The room was reasonably clean by the time the movie was over, so Jack decided to take a run out for some food.

The apartment was on the fifth floor, and Goth Guy from Six was on the elevator when it stopped. Goth Guy from Six's real name was a complete mystery to Jack and Ben, who habitually referred to him as Goth Guy from Six. Come to think of it, they had never actually talked to him, just a couple of nods and muttered pleasantries, although he had lived in this building at least as long as they had. Such was life.

Goth Guy from Six had a cigarette and lighter out and was apparently waiting for the moment he hit the street to light it up. Despite being a nonsmoker Jack couldn't help but sympathize on principle, although not so much at the moment.

On the sidewalk G. G. from S. did light up, and Jack turned the other direction toward the supermarket. It was a not uncomfortably warm day. He had the rest of the day to spend on whatever he wanted. Despite its inauspicious beginning, it would probably turn out pretty well after all.

Ch. 2: Doctors Find New Way To Prolong Meaningless Existence

"Hey!"

"Hey. How'd it go?"

"Ehh, same old, really. The shop wasn't too busy; there was nothing going on today." Ben tossed his coat onto the recently cleared-off easy chair as Jack entered the living room. "Is there anything to eat?"

"Yeah, I got you some lo mein. It's in the fridge."

"And the apartment is clean. I swear to god, you're better than a girl." Ben kicked off his shoes as he headed for the refrigerator, and tucked into the cold noodles with chopsticks.

"'Course. I'm not nearly as whiny."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Heh." Jack leaned against the counter and sipped a Coke while Ben slurped up the lo mein, standing up, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Jack was starting to get a bit tired, even at this hour, for no good reason, but considering the fact that he had been off all day and his roommate had just worked for twelve hours, he didn't want to show it. Ben never pulled the martyr card – it was against his nature – but still, it seemed too self-centered to whine about being tired. Hence the Coke, which had kept him at some level of functionality till now, and the fact that he was talking less than usual. He planned to crash as soon as Ben was asleep, which would probably be within the hour.

"Speaking of which..." Ben began thoughtfully, once half his takeout container had vanished.

"Huh?" Jack looked up distractedly. Ben was absentmindedly chewing on the end of his chopsticks. Definitely a sign of nerves. Nerves about what? Ben didn't get anxious all that often, which only amplified Jack's own nervousness. Was something wrong? "What's up?"

"Do you mind if I invite somebody over sometime for movies?"

Jack frowned slightly. "Yeah, why not, I guess. Why do you say it like that?"

"Well, I don't know if you'll get along with her. And I'm not going to force it if you don't. I just wanted to clear it with you first. It's only fair, you know?"

"Wait. Her?"

"Yeah. Jane, a girl who works at the coffee shop. She's pretty nice; you might like her. If not, no big deal. We can hang out somewhere else."

"Well, I..." Jack swallowed, shifted his feet a little. Ben had hardly ever asked for standard roommate procedure, but he could do it if he had to. It was fair. Ben would do the same for him, were this another universe with entirely different laws of reality and their positions were reversed. "It doesn't really matter if I like her, does it. I won't get in your way. If you want, I can clear out for a while. Give you some privacy."

"No no, it's not like that. Just hanging out. With you, too." Ben smiled a bit weakly. Maybe it was just fatigue. "You're always home; it wouldn't hurt to mix with somebody new a little."

I'm always home, and you never are, Jack thought. But so it goes. This is my life. He pushed in the sides of the now empty Coke can and snapped them back out again one by one. "Yeah, sure. Can't hurt that bad, right?"

"Yeah." Ben smiled more sincerely and started back in on his lo mein. "You look tired. Why don't you get some sleep?"

"Heh. Yeah... I guess so. Good night, then. Oh, do you work tomorrow?"

"No, I'm off."

"Okay. So when are you thinking about this get-together?"

"Geez, it's nothing that formal. Just next time we get some movies. I was thinking maybe Friday."

"Mm. All right."

"Good night."

"Night."

Jack brushed his teeth, changed and got into bed. And despite being tired ten minutes ago, did not sleep.

Friday. So. Enough time to clean the apartment again, seriously this time. Still, that was kind of a futile action, wasn't it. A mildly sick feeling was gathering in his stomach. The mental images were not good. What sorts of girls worked in coffee shops? The grad student types, with clothes that somehow evoked New York – scarves in the winter, dark gray wool coats – and always, always had that straight dark shiny hair and dark lipstick, they had money. Didn't need to work in coffee shops. They just hung out there. Besides, Ben would probably never talk to anyone like that. Or maybe the ones with blue streaked hair and six earrings who always made him flash back to his childhood, watching music videos by Cyndi Lauper – they would probably either laugh or kill him for that. But maybe that... Kind of Ben's type. What was Ben's type, anyway? Vague, dreamy artist types who would probably kill him despite their pacifist leanings for thinking of them as second-generation hippies? That didn't sound like Ben's type either. And did this even apply, since Ben had said this wasn't a dating thing? And did it really matter that much, since the enemy was the enemy and it was all more or less relative when you were staring down that kind of blank, mocking stare?

Jack turned over onto his side and curled one arm around the spare pillow, hugging it to his chest. And why was this all making him horny? Sick. Beyond sick.

Well, he would never get to sleep if he kept brooding about it, so he chose to ignore the pathetic angle and let himself be distracted by the shiny baubles – never mind the obnoxious loserness of checking out his roommate's non-date, or even that he couldn't help doing it just by reflex. Movies, and a clean apartment wasn't so bad either. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. And Ben had given him veto power; Jack could ask him not to invite coffee shop girl over again if she was a complete jerk to him. That was nice of him, Jack reflected, just as his thoughts started scattering into non-linear rambles. Could always count on him. Good guy.

It wouldn't be so bad.

"Jack. Dude. Enough."

"What?" Jack turned back from his closet, where he had stacked another box full of complementary CDs. "Enough what?"

Ben was leaning against the frame of Jack's bedroom door, eating something or other, probably chips, out of one hand. "Enough compulsive cleaning. It's just movie night, yo, not a formal function."

"Yeah, but we don't usually have guests," Jack replied, knowing it would sound lame.

"'Guests.' Once you meet her, you won't use that word again. Trust me."

"What, like she's the anti-guest who erases all guestness in existence?"

"No, you won't call her a guest, smartass. It's just hanging out."

"Mmph."

"Besides, I don't think anybody's going to be using your room for anything. Unless you've got plans. Stud."

"Oh, fuck you," Jack retorted amiably.

"Not tonight, thanks. Besides, clean room or not, I think your poster for 'The Boobs that Destroyed Tokyo' there would probably send most of 'em screaming anyway."

Jack felt his cheeks warm slightly and opened the closet door, hiding the poster against the wall. "It's 'Magical Guardress Sakura,' thank you very much," he said with mock disdain.

"I know. I've seen it, remember?"

"Yes, your flag and baton routine for the opening theme was inspiring."

"Fuck you now. Anyway, don't worry about it. We'll be hanging in the living room, and even so, Jane doesn't seem like the type to really care what state the apartment is in. Even though it looks great, by the way. Again."

"Thank you."

"Just relax, Jack. Pizza, movies, same as usual. No big deal."

"Yeah, well."

"No, no well, that's it. A little interaction with new people won't kill you. If she turns out to be evil, we'll put a stake through her heart and burn her ashes with holy water, all right?"

"I think you have the mythos screwed up."

"Well, whatever. Besides, I think you'll get along all right. Hey, if I'm not mistaken she even likes 'Magical Guardress Destroyer Boobs' too, so." Ben made a shooting motion with his free hand, with a click of his tongue and a suave expression. "You're all set."

"God, that's an irritating gesture. Don't ever do that again."

"Whatever you say, man. Just chill."

"Hm."

Ben scarfed another mouthful of chips and wandered off. When he had gone, Jack closed the closet door again, closed his bedroom door, and lay down, staring at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. The apartment was parental-visit clean, his room was in order, with all the usual clutter packed away; only Ben's room, which Jack wouldn't venture into even under these circumstances, had escaped his vehement sweep throughout the last week.

Nerves? Nerves. Why was he nervous? And why was it worse now, with more details to go on? He sighed. No use fighting it. Getting put down by someone he had a chance of relating to was worse than from someone he had nothing in common with. Why? It didn't matter.

It could go well... it could. Or Ben's natural charm could kick in, and he would have to watch someone he related to pull toward his best friend instead. Much better not to have to go through this at all. Damn Ben for thinking of this...

But then, he'd said it wasn't like that. Still. You never knew.

Tomorrow.

Ch. 3: New Girlfriend Tests Poorly With Peer Focus Group

By nine in the evening Jack had drunk four cans of Coke, and sat on the couch, unconsciously tapping his fingers on the stack of videos on the endtable. There were things he could have been doing, but for one thing, he didn't want to get wrapped up in something only to have to ditch it when Ben and Coffee Shop Girl showed up, and for another thing, his concentration was shot. Not that he would have admitted that, of course, except perhaps at gunpoint.

The door clicked open at nine-sixteen, and the smell of curry preceded Ben's entry. Curry? They were supposed to get pizza. "Hey!"

"Hey." Jack froze for a moment between getting up and staying where he was, before the former won out. Ben was carrying two bags in addition to his backpack, and Jack crossed the room to take them.

"We got Indian instead; is that okay?" Ben handed over the bags and took off his coat. Someone was behind him, but Jack concentrated on the task at hand for the moment. "Jane had never had it, so I thought it would be good to try."

Deprived child, Jack thought of joking, but couldn't get it out. "Sure, it's fine." He set the bags on the coffee table and took his seat on the couch again, with the thought that this was probably the wrong thing to do as well. He was functioning on autopilot for the time being. Couldn't be helped. Besides, chances were neither of them would notice anyway.

"Have a seat." Ben waved to the easy chair across from Jack's spot as he sat on the other end of the couch, but almost in the same instant the girl pounced into the seat between them. Startled, Jack tensed up and forgot not to stare.

Despite his worrying about what type Ben would wreak upon them, he would be hard-pressed to define any description for this girl at all apart from Early Twenty-First Century Collegiate. She was wearing a hooded sweatshirt over the coffee shop uniform shirt and had nondescript shortish brownish hair. He wouldn't have picked her from a crowd as Ben's type in a million years. Which, he reflected, may have been the source of the whole "it's not like that" demurral.

All of this shot through his mind in the approximately three-fourths of a second before she smiled and stuck her hand out. "Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Jane; I work at the coffee shop with Ben."

"I know," he said without thinking, mentally kicked himself, and shook her hand. Which was cold. "I'm Jack, Ben's roommate." And Lord High Master of the Obvious, apparently.

Ben was beginning to open the takeout containers; the smell of curry and sauce was close to making his stomach growl. Just lovely. Jane glanced over her shoulder and went on, "So what do you do?"

I am a shrubber, Jack thought randomly and absurdly, and stifled a laugh. My name is Roger the Shrubber. I arrange, design, and sell shrubberies. "I work downtown for a media firm. I design websites, mostly."

"Oh, how cool!"

"It's not as fun as it sounds."

"I think it's cool. I've tried to learn HTML and I have a little site and all, but I'm not very good at it. And besides, that means you're both artistic." Her smile had a kind of puppies-are-cute beaming quality that was both endearing and offputting. Half of Jack's mind wanted to talk with her more, and the other half wanted to suffocate her with a throw pillow. He looked across her to Ben, who was smirking a little. Deal with conversation. Then strangle Ben. Right.

"Eh, I'm not much of an artist. Just a little bit of graphics work. I can make some mean sand art, though," he added mock-seriously. Ben chuckled, and by all indications this was the girl's only clue that it was a joke. She laughed a little weakly.

Perhaps, after all, she was too dumb to be a threat... "So what did you get?" Jack asked, nodding at the takeout containers Ben had arranged across the coffee table.

"Mm, curry, chicken tikka masala, some nan bread... I don't remember everything, actually. Just take whatever."

"O...kay. Do we need plates?"

"Yeah, we could be civilized, I guess. You're no fun." Ben smirked again. Jane laughed a bit at that.

"I'll get them. Oh, do you want something to drink?"

"Yeah, Coke," Ben answered.

"What's the magic word?"

"Harder. I mean, please."

"Smartass." He was a little embarrassed by Ben's joking. It was nothing out of the ordinary, but something about kidding around in front of the girl bothered him. It was something people probably wouldn't understand, and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted anyone to understand. He turned back to Jane. "Do you want anything?"

"Just water, please."

"All right." Jack headed off to the kitchen to gather his thoughts for a minute, and returned with silverware and dishes and drinks. Jane got off the couch to sit cross-legged at the edge of the coffee table, with her back against the couch. For a moment Jack envied her apparent comfort in the situation, then pushed it out of mind and took a seat on the easy chair, leaving the rest of the couch to Ben. The three divided up the food, with explanations mostly from Ben to Jane about what everything was. At first Jack was uneasy, with vague fears of spilling things on himself or otherwise making a fool of himself, but between hunger and the still-hot deliciousness of the feast he abandoned his nervousness for the moment. Besides, apart from asking what everything was, Jane wasn't paying much attention anyway. He figured that both of them were starving, having both just finished work.

By the time they'd almost had their fill, Jack remembered that they'd forgotten to start one of the movies. He looked again at the stack Ben had left between his shifts – dark comedy, ironic action, sci-fi... a typically Ben-esque array, with the usual one over-thought and symbolism-ridden animated title to appease Jack. Ben looked up to realize what Jack was looking at. "Oh, hell. Forgot about that. Votes, guys?"

"Doesn't matter to me," Jack replied.

"Me either," shrugged Jane.

"Oh, just pick something. You people."

"Fine, fine." Jane climbed back up onto the couch opposite Ben, closed her eyes, and picked one of the tapes from the stack. She handed it to Ben, who stuck it in the VCR and sat back half-sprawling. Jane settled into the opposite end of the couch, between Ben and Jack's easy chair, and sat with one knee pulled up and her arms wrapped around it. Jack shifted uneasily and turned his attention to the television as the movie started – it was the sci-fi one, as it turned out.

After a while it became easier to forget his unease and lose himself in the story, and for a long time Jack didn't think about the night's anxiety at all. The other two were quiet, for the most part; in fact, Ben was uncharacteristically quiet, and during a lull Jack looked up to realize he'd fallen asleep. Poor bastard. Jack sighed to himself and ignored it for now; he might still wake up before the end. Jane caught him looking and gave him an apologetic little smile.

"Should I wake him up or something?" she asked in a stage whisper.

"Nah... he'd been working since nine. If you want to go, I can, I don't know, ...get you a cab or something? I don't have a car, I'm sorry."

"No no, I only live a couple of blocks away anyway. I'll stay till the movie's over. It's pretty good."

"Yeah, it is. Okay."

He turned his attention back to the movie and ignored the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he realized she was still watching him. After a minute she looked back at the screen as well, and they lapsed back into silence. Ben didn't stir, sleeping soundly with his head thrown back against the back of the couch.

It was nearly midnight when the movie ended. Jane stood up, stretching, and looked back at Ben a little sheepishly. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't want to be a burden or anything."

"It's all right."

"Thank you for having me. This was fun."

"It was Ben's idea. But you're welcome. Thanks for coming." Polite nothings, polite nothings... it gave him something to say, at least. Jack got up and started to gather the leftover food from the coffee table; Jane followed suit. "No, it's okay. I'll get it."

"I don't have anything else to do. I don't mind."

"All right..." Feeling vaguely awkward, he closed up the packages that were worth keeping for later and took them to the kitchen. As he was putting them into the refrigerator, Jane entered with the takeout bags full of trash.

"Um. To your left. Here, I'll get it." Jack took the bags from her and crushed them into the trash, definitely embarrassed now. If anything, he should have gotten that and let her get the food. Well, too late now. He washed his hands at the sink, and after a moment she did the same. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No, I don't think so. I think I'd like to go home now. No offense."

"None taken. It's late. Um... I'll walk you home, if you like."

She smiled, a smile that softened her eyes more than her mouth. "That's sweet. Thank you." Something about her was muted, when she was tired, or maybe some kind of post-work caffeine rush had worn off. She seemed more vague, more dreamy, softly pleasant rather than aggressively cheerful. It wasn't a bad change at all.

He could feel his cheeks starting to blush. "Let me get my coat."

"Okay."

Jack headed for his room to get his coat from the closet, and was just closing the closet door when he realized that Jane had followed him, and was standing in the doorway. He froze, the coat in one hand, the other hand on the closet doorknob.

"Sorry," she said. "I was curious. You like 'Magical Guardress Sakura'?"

"No, it came with the geek starter kit," he replied blankly, and realized she might not follow the joke. "Yes, I like it."

"Awesome. I've watched that show since I was fourteen. I have the whole set on DVD. It's one of my favorites."

"Yeah, I got into it about then too. I just have the tapes, though. Haven't switched over yet."

"You can borrow mine whenever you want. Or we could watch it sometime. A nostalgia fest."

Jack managed to crack a smile. "Yeah, maybe."

"Heh. I'm glad I found that out. I didn't know Ben had such cool friends."

"He does?"

Jane chuckled softly. Jack pulled on his coat to distract himself from a growing sense of near panic. This was so far away from what he'd expected that it was starting to disturb him. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah. My bag's still by the door, so."

"Okay." He started for the door, and Jane got out of his way and followed him to the front door of the apartment. She picked up her backpack from where she'd left it near the door, and they headed for the elevator. Goth Guy from Six was on his way out, dressed up in full weekend regalia. It was really quite impressive.

Jane smiled at him. "Hello."

"Evening."

Jack punched the ground-floor button.

On the street Jane turned to the left, and Jack followed; she let him catch up with her and walked beside him. Jack kept his hands in his pockets and thought he should say something, though he couldn't imagine what. He half wanted to ask about what she did, where she came from, and all of those other baseline pleasantries, but half of him had heard her talk quite enough for one night. Besides, it was kind of strange feeling the way he already did. Like she could get to be his friend, instead of Ben's. Instead of? In addition to, he supposed. No reason not to. That wouldn't be so bad, really. And fatigue tended to short out his self-control anyway.

What to say, then.

"So do you go to school?"

"No... well, I'm technically between undergrad and grad school. I figured I'd save up some money in that so-called real world for a while."

"Mm. What did you major in?"

"English lit. Which kind of explains why I have to go on to grad school."

"Hm. Have you been working at the coffee shop for long?"

"Medium, I guess. About six months."

"That's long for that place, as I understand."

"Heh. Really. It's not a bad place, though."

"Doesn't seem like it. Ben hasn't had many complaints."

"Hm." They walked for a little while, and she pointed to steer them around a corner. "So how long have you known Ben?"

"Since we were kids. Fifth grade, I think. Well, we were in the same classes in some of the grades before that, but we only really got to be friends around then."

"That's really nice. That you've stuck together so long."

"Yeah. He's a good guy."

"Seems like it. I don't really talk to anyone from that far back. They're a long way away. I moved here to go to school, and just stayed after that... so." She shrugged. "I email a couple of people from college now and then. That's about it."

"I see. Well, Ben's pretty much the only one I still talk to, so I kind of know how that is."

"Hm." She looked up at the buildings around them. "We're almost there, two more buildings."

"Okay."

"You can find your way back, right?"

"Oh, sure."

"All right. Okay, we're there." She stopped at the steps of another nondescript apartment building, paused with one foot on a stair. She looked down at him. The sick feeling gathered in his stomach again. "I just wanted to thank you again, Jack. You've been so nice. I'm glad I got to hang out with you guys."

"Thanks," he replied without thinking. "I mean, you're welcome. Sorry about Ben. I'll beat him up tomorrow."

She smiled. "You guys are funny. And it's okay, I mean, this was nice too. So... see you later, I hope."

"Yeah. Good night."

Jane went into the building, and after a moment had passed Jack turned and started back home.

Ch. 4: Area Man Consults Internet Whenever Possible

When Jack closed the door, Ben stirred a little on the couch. Jack hung his coat by the door, sat on the easy chair and took his shoes off. "Ben."

"Hmnh huh?"

"It's late. Go to bed."

"Mm." Ben opened his eyes, sat up straight with a grunt. "Crap. How long was I out?"

"Half the movie or so. It's all right; I took Jane home. Just go to bed."

"Oh yeah?" Ben rubbed his eyes, groped for a half-full can of Coke on the coffee table and took a drink. "So you guys got along okay?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"I thought you would. See? Told you. I have pretty good evil bitch radar; you should trust my judgment more."

"Fine, fine."

"So no veto from you? Got the Jack T. Singer stamp of approval?"

"Yeah. Now shut up and get to bed."

"Yes, master." Ben stood up and stretched, then wandered off to his room. Jack sat by himself for a minute, staring into space near the couch. It had gone well. Strangely well, in a way, but really it was okay. He could take it again. Actually, now that he thought of it, he should have asked for her email address or something. Couldn't hurt, after all.

[Skipped: Remembering Jane's mention of making websites, Jack looks her up on the internet, feeling a bit stalkerish.]

Shrugging, he picked the first one and started to read. He hadn't seen the movie it was based on, but he'd heard of it. Apparently the hero died at the end. So much for spoiler warnings.

...Smoke billowed from the edges of the pod as the light within began to brighten, casting blue-tinged shadows over the darkened room. Crystalle nearly held her breath as the hum of the machinery increased. She could feel the thrill of anticipation tingling in her body to the very tips of her fingers and toes. Soon he would return, and destiny would be fulfilled.

...destiny? Oh, boy... Jack skimmed down a bit.

"I'm sorry," she cried. "No one could save her. We all tried. But she insisted on taking a ship and going out alone, and, and..."

Dirk turned away, his normally noble face stormy with emotion. He stood still for a moment in thought, as Chrystalle stood with her hands clasped, her snowy breast barely moving in the dim light of the room.

"I trust you did all you could," he replied at last. "She was always an impulsive woman. Would never listen to any of us. She found her own fate." Chrystalle bowed her head silently. Her golden hair slipped forward to hide her porcelain face.

"And now," Dirk said, "I have found a new life."

"Now that he's alive, kill me instead," Jack muttered under his breath.

He turned toward her and caught her in a strong embrace. He bent to kiss her satiny soft lips and

Jack swallowed uneasily. Wretchedly sappy as this was, it still kind of... He hit the back button to retreat to the listing, breathing a little more quickly than usual. It bothered him to read something like this that Jane had written, this girl he barely knew, connecting what he'd seen of her with these... romance-novel dreams. Badly written romance-novel dreams, at that.

Maybe the others weren't this bad. Maybe it was an old story. Jack skipped down a few titles that looked discomfortingly like the last and picked another.

"The Black Rose sails six leagues to starboard!"

"Raise the flag, boys!" the captain cried, leaping up to the bow. "We'll meet 'em as they come!"

The Blood Rose was the terror of the high seas,

Oh, no.

...and its captain, Laughing Marine, was the main reason for it. Though many men were said to meet their doom while trying in vain to get a glimpse of the legendary pirate, few escaped with their lives. The lucky few who did were made part of the Blood Rose's crew, destined to live a life of adventure fraught with peril.

The ship now approaching, its black sails billowing in the salty wind, was captained by La Terre, the only pirate more infamous than Laughing Marine – and although she was rumored to be just as beautiful and merciless, these were only rumors, for no one left the decks of the Black Rose alive.

"Captain," called the first mate, bounding up behind the captain. "What are your orders?"

The first mate, Johnny Red, had been picked up while raiding a merchant ship five years before. He had leapt onto the Blood Rose's deck, so the story went, and threatened to gut every soul on board if he weren't accepted as a crew member. He and Laughing Marine became great friends after that, and eventually he was promoted to first mate.

"How are the conditions here?" Laughing Marine asked the man to her left, the Blood Rose's navigator, who was studying a parchment map.

The man pushed his glasses up. "Good, captain. Deep water, flat underwater terrain, and a good habitat for sharks."

Laughing Marine smiled, her dark eyes glittering. "Should be a great fight today, boys. We'll have La Terre hanging from the mast in a net by sundown."

The other pirates cheered, and busied themselves preparing for battle.

The Black Rose sailed straight for them, but with an order from Laughing Marine, the Blood Rose dropped anchor without firing a shot. The black-sailed ship approached silently, and as it drew closer the men of the Blood Rose strained to make out the faces of the infamous Black Rose captain – but the figure in the center of the ship was surrounded by a cadre of sailors with drawn swords, and her face was hidden in shadow.

Laughing Marine ordered the gunners to be still as the somber ship drew up next to their side. The fluttering pennants of the two ships, one black and one red, were the only things moving for a moment. Then the captain of the Black Rose raised her arm. Laughing Marine was heard to chuckle, and after a pause she waved back. The phalanx of pirates on the Black Rose moved toward the edge of the deck, and Laughing Marine crossed her own deck to meet them across the narrow channel of water between the two ships. At about this time the Blood Rose pirates began to murmur excitedly, for they had noticed two things – first, the crew of the Black Rose, though cold-eyed and devilish in demeanor, were all women, athletic, fleet, and armed to the teeth. Second, the face of La Terre, under the hat feathered with a black plume, was as like to their own captain's as if they had been struck from the same mold.

"How goes business, La Terre?" Laughing Marine called to the other ship.

"I've gotten all the ships you've missed, Marine, and then some," replied the opposite captain in a voice both cold and beautiful.

"Very good. Have you spoken to Father lately?"

"That old fool?" laughed the pirate in black.

"Indeed," replied Laughing Marine, with a smile. "He sends his regards."

"How much will his regards net on the black market, Marine?"

Laughing Marine threw her head back and loosed one of the peals of laughter that had earned her nickname years ago. "Well said, my sister. Now, shall we fight?"

"We shall." The captain of the Black Rose threw back the feathered cape over her shoulders, letting it be caught by two of her crew members. She tossed her hat aside, revealing raven black hair identical to Laughing Marine's. La Terre took three graceful, catlike steps backward, then lunged forward and leaped across the divide. Laughing Marine stepped nimbly aside as La Terre took two somersaults across the deck and leaped to her feet. The pirates of the Blood Rose took in the sight with wonder and terror, for La Terre was indeed as lovely as their own captain, but without their captain's good nature. La Terre's was a fearful beauty indeed, clad in black leather with white ruffles at her wrists and throat, her raven hair cascading down her back in waves. Those crew members closest to the pair noticed also the silver earrings in her ears, baubles formed in the shape of tiny male members.

Laughing Marine chuckled deviously. "Pretty trinkets you've got there, my sister."

La Terre smirked with ruby-dark lips. "Consider them trophies."

Several of the pirates took steps backward.

Jack opened his mouth, then shut it again.

Well then.

He was starting to get tired, anyway. It had been a long day, though the work day seemed years away now. Jack backed up (happily) to the listing page, bookmarked the page, closed the window, shut down his computer, turned the main light off and undressed by the light of the bedside lamp. He lay down and switched it off, though for some reason didn't sleep right away.

Try to forget the stories... It had been a good night. In the dark, now, he let himself think what had been too uncomfortable to think about before. It was nice to meet someone new and maybe make a new friend. She was nice. Kind of annoying, but nice. He had liked walking her home. He would like to see her again sometime, with Ben awake this time, hopefully.

He hoped Ben didn't mind that they had talked. But why would he? He seemed happy that they had gotten along well. And why not? Two of his friends getting along meant that they could all spend time together. That was a nice thought...

As he slipped toward sleep his thoughts slid sideways, and he dreamed of another girl, different in many ways from Jane, snuggling with him on the couch as they watched movies together. Her head rested on his shoulder, and her arms were around him, comfortable and warm. Jack curled up a little tighter in his sleep. He bent to kiss her satiny soft lips and...

Ch. 5: Starbucks To Begin Sinister 'Phase Two' Of Operation

Two weeks later, Jack met Jane and Ben at the coffee shop, and the three of them walked to a nearby restaurant for dinner. It was the fourth time Jack had seen Jane, and he was beginning to feel more comfortable around her. She posed no threat, after all; she had never been less than friendly to him. If anything, she was too clueless to pick up on things to scorn.

"So you don't play anything, do you, Jack?"

"No, no. Tried the trumpet for a couple of months in elementary school, but I wasn't too fond of it. That was all for me."

"Aw, that’s a shame. The two of you could've started a band or something."

"Nah, I think I'm a soloist at heart," Ben replied, dunking some french fries in steak sauce. "Fewer ego battles. Besides, I get to keep all the groupies."

Jane laughed, somewhere just below a giggle. "So have you played anywhere?"

Ben paused to finish chewing and took a sip of Coke. "No, not yet. My genius is yet to be uncovered by the cruel world."

"What he means is, he's chicken."

"Hey, I'd like to see you try it."

Jane leaned her chin on her hand thoughtfully. "Why don't you play at the open mic nights at the coffee shop? I'm surprised you haven't done that yet."

"Well... you know. It's that much worse if I have to face these people again, let alone four times a week."

"Oh, nothing. I'm sure everyone would cheer you on. I would. I bet the rest of the staff would. And I bet some of the regulars know you, I bet they would too. Right, Jack?"

Jack shrugged. "I guess so. I mean, I'd go. And it makes sense to me. Home court advantage, and all of that."

"You really think so?" Ben asked with a trace of wariness.

Jack nodded. "Sure. You're pretty good, Ben. I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"Well, playing for you isn't the same as playing to a bunch of people, you know."

"Yeah, but you can do it."

Jane nodded eagerly, tapping her fists lightly on the table in excitement. "Do it, do it!"

Ben sighed, shaking his head. "Well, considering Jack's title as least adventurous guy on earth, I'll have to trust his opinion. All right, I'll try it."

"Hooray! I'm your first fan, Ben."

"Second," Jack corrected with a trace of a smile. "I knew him first, and I have the dorky middle-school pictures to prove it."

"You sell those to the press, and I will hunt you down with my pack of evil bodyguards."

"Sure thing, Mr. Rock Star."

"That’s singer-songwriter, thank you. I am an Artiste. Besides, they get all the non-skanky chicks anyway."

Jane whacked him in the arm.

The next open-mic night was a Wednesday, after Ben had had six days to pace through the apartment and practice half the songs in his repertoire. He had finally decided on a couple of possibilities, depending on his mood at the moment; he only got one song in his turn, but he had worried about freezing up on one and not having another to try instead.

Jane was working that night, so Ben and Jack walked to the coffee shop together, not saying much; Ben kept a death grip on the handle of his guitar case, and Jack walked with his hands in his pockets, leaving Ben to work up his nerve.

At the coffee shop Jane gave them a smile when they came in, though she was serving another customer; Ben waved back, and Jack smiled a little.

"Well, I have to go back and sign up," Ben said. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck, man. You'll be fine."

"Thanks."

Jack made his way along the line and ordered a large coffee from the other clerk. Jane, operating some kind of daunting machinery, turned at the sound of his voice and grinned. "Jack! That's Ben's roommate," she added to the clerk, who replied with a noncommittal sound. "If you see him, tell him I said good luck. You guys made it just in time, didn't you."

"Yeah, he didn't want to wait around too long. Makes him nervous." Jack handed over some money and waited as the other clerk got the coffee. "I'll tell him you said that, though."

"Great."

After he'd gotten his drink, Jack got a seat at an empty table and sat for a while, tapping the sides of the mug without realizing it. He hoped Ben was all right; he'd nearly been sick back at their apartment, and had gone on only after several antacids and promises that everything would be all right. Jack had also bribed him with dinner afterward for the three of them. Despite his lingering pallor Ben had replied with a vaguely salacious retort, so he was at least somewhat back to his old self.

The coffee had just cooled enough for the first sip or two when the coffee shop manager approached the microphone at one end of the room with a sick-looking Ben in tow, clinging to his guitar. The manager asked for quiet and retreated, leaving Ben by himself. Jack saw him scanning the tables, and gave him a little wave. Ben glanced toward the counter as well, and Jack followed his line of sight to see that Jane was watching, whispering something to one of the other baristas.

Jack turned back toward the makeshift stage area as Ben settled in. "Ben Bernina, I'm from, well, Dartridge Street, actually, and... this is my first time up here. If you have anything to throw, please wait till the end of the song. Thank you."

There was a mild ripple of chuckling. It was a good sign; if Ben had enough of his wits about him to make jokes, even weak ones, then it couldn't be that bad. Jack took another sip of coffee and watched contentedly. He recognized the first few notes as one of Ben's more favored songs – he always had a gripe about something in all of his songs, but he liked this one despite complaining about the transition out of the bridge. It had an easygoing pace without being lethargic, and lay well within his vocal range. He'd chosen well.

Jack found himself smiling a little to himself. Even if he wasn't very keen on getting up in front of people, it was a great step for Ben to at least give this a try. He knew his friend would probably be content with playing on the couch on his afternoons off, keeping his scrawled tab sheets in piles on his bedroom floor. And even if he went back to those ways after this, it was exciting to see his ability used in a different way, branching out in new directions. And if nothing else he could see that there was a way past the nervousness that usually attacked him at the thought of playing in public.

Besides, to Jack, who was the only person in the room who already knew most of Ben's songs, it was a pleasant curiosity in its own way. For a while he forgot his surroundings, lost in thought. His friend wasn't the most groundbreaking or brilliant songwriter ever born – his compositions were pleasant but not thrilling, and his lyrics were often predictable – but Jack had always enjoyed listening to him, and he seemed to be doing quite well now despite all the anxiety that had led up to this moment. He had ability, if not world-class talent, and enough sincerity to truly love what he did with it. Most people probably wouldn't guess that, Jack reflected. It was a shame, that most wouldn't suspect that the video store clerk or pleasantly unassuming barista (or any of the other menial jobs Ben had taken, one after another) had any other promise or spark of creativity. Most people underestimated him. Maybe Ben even underestimated himself. Jack never had, though. Maybe that was one of the things that made them good friends.

When the song ended there was a smattering of applause, and Jack joined in; Ben looked up, and smiled a little. He looked toward the bar again, where, Jack now saw, one of the baristas was holding up a lighter. Ben laughed, adjusted the microphone, and started another song – to Jack's slight surprise, though, he had seemed to relax quite a bit through the first song. This one wasn't his song, just a song he liked playing. It was one he was pretty good at playing, as well, Jack had always thought. He tended to finish up his sessions in the living room with it, before wrapping up for the day, and Jack would often stop what he was doing to listen. It brought on a warm kind of nostalgia, thinking of those minutes spent leaning against the living-room wall, listening with his eyes closed, out of Ben's sight – though Ben always knew he was there. It was one of the better tableaus of his life as it was now, and probably the one that reminded him most of their friendship, something the two of them shared without really having to say anything about it. It was a moment nobody else had experienced, something unique to the two of them. That was kind of how it went, in the good times, something quiet and unassuming – despite their long-running game of retorts, their friendship had been built out of mutual respect and years and years of time. Saturday afternoons with a quietly strummed guitar, leaving takeout in the refrigerator without being asked, an endless procession of Death Star-procured tapes – somehow these things had built up to last half their lives.

Ben definitely seemed more relaxed now, though the laconic mood of the song, and its associations, perhaps, might have had something to do with it. Still, the fact that he was able to get into that mood in the first place probably showed that he wasn't as nervous up there at the end of his first song as he had been at the beginning.

Jack noticed a girl at the next table silently mouthing the words along with the song, her lips barely moving. Jack couldn't help but smirk to himself. He'd have to tell Ben about that. Pretty girl, too... probably from the college.

When Ben finished the second song there was another scattering of applause, a bit louder this time. The loudest noise came from the counter, where the clerks were whistling and clapping. Ben waved at them and leaned back up to the microphone. " Ladies and gentlemen, please tip the starving and very deserving baristas on your way out. Thank you." Ducking back to pick up his guitar case, he made his way back to Jack's table. A couple of people smiled up at him as he passed, and he nodded to them, muttering thanks.

He crashed into the chair next to Jack, his guitar still across his lap. "Holy hell, man. What about that."

"Nice job, Ben. Congratulations."

"Thanks."

Jack's side slammed painfully into the edge of the table as he was tackled around the neck, and his forehead knocked against Ben's. "Ow. Fuck." Instinctively he jerked back; Jane had gotten both of them in a flying group hug. "Sorry. Damn. Ow." Wincing, he rubbed his head.

"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry! Got carried away."

"You don't say. Mmff."

"Sorry..."

"It's all right, don't worry about it."

Jane hugged Ben again, one-sided, though her other arm remained around Jack's neck. "Oh my gosh, Ben. That was awesome."

"Thanks." Ben extracted his guitar from the impact zone and propped it against his chair on the other side.

"I knew you'd do great. See?"

"It was okay. You never know, I guess."

"Very nice work," Jack added.

"I'll say. You should do this more often, Ben."

"Yeah, well. Maybe. I don't want to spend my every waking hour here; it might give them ideas."

"Heh. Well, you have to do it again at least a couple of times. And I have to be there. That was great. I'm so glad you decided to try it."

"Me too, I guess."

"Hee, see?!" She hugged both of them again, and Jack got his hand up in time to block their heads from knocking together. Ben gave him a wry, long-suffering look, and Jack couldn't help but laugh.

"No more coffee for you, Husky," Ben chided as the girl finally backed off.

"Ah!" she cried. "Call me that again and you die. God, I should never have told you that."

"So, Jane who is not called 'Husky' on pain of death, can I have a large coffee?"

"Yeah, if you get your lazy butt up to the bar yourself."

"Tch. Of course." Ben felt in one pocket for his wallet, and Jack handed him a five before he had finished looking. "Hey. Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

"Thank you, sirs; your order will be up in a moment." Jane plucked the bill from Ben's hand and returned to the counter.

Jack sipped his coffee. "So what did you call her that is so horrible?"

"'Husky.' It's a nickname she had back in school, apparently. Told me about it a while back. It's short for her last name, Husqvarna. She hates it. It's kind of funny."

"Sadist. How the hell do you spell that, anyway?"

"H-u-s- I don't remember the rest. Hell, man, I couldn't be bothered to spell my own name right now." Ben picked up his case and packed up his guitar, snapping the clasps shut just as Jane's voice came over the fuzzy microphone at the counter, "Number 128, your order is up."

"Right. Be right back."

The next musician, a girl with long dyed-black hair, was halfway through her song, plucking out a song on a guitar with stickers along the bottom edge. Ben returned to the table, giving back Jack's change. As a string of people took their turn at the microphone, the two friends drank their coffee and listened in companionable silence.

Jane's shift was over at nine, and through several cups of coffee Jack managed to stay alert until they left. He walked a step behind Ben and Jane as they debated what to do for dinner; Ben, still a bit wound up from the night's accomplishments, wanted to cook something, but there wasn't much left to cook in their apartment.

Ben turned, walking backwards. "Hey, Jack, do you mind if we sidetrack to the supermarket for some stuff first? It won't take long. Promise."

"Eh. You go ahead, I'll meet you at home. Is that okay?"

"Sure. Can you take my guitar?"

"Yeah." Jack took the instrument from Ben.

"Thanks. See you later." The other two crossed the street at the next corner, and Jack rounded it toward their building. He was fine with staying up a while longer, but really didn't have it in him to go on a shopping excursion with the two of them, especially when both were still partly wound up from caffeine and post-performance excitement. He was more in the mood for a slow unwinding at home. They'd probably pipe down a bit as Ben cooked; cooking tended to put him in a mellow mood.

When he reached the elevator of their building, Goth Guy from Six was just getting off it. He took a double-take at the guitar, but Jack muttered, "It's my roommate's." With a nod, the other tenant went on his way.

Inside, Jack set Ben's guitar on the couch, took off his coat, and headed for his room. He stifled a yawn and looked around for some way to kill time until the other two got back. Well, it was good enough as any... He turned his computer on and took a seat as he waited for it to finish booting up. Once it had finished and connected, he brought up Jane's page again and picked the newest story on the list.

The warm breeze blew gently through the trees at the edge of the Darkling Forest; the view was clear from here to the sea some distance away and below, where the water lay sparkling aquamarine along the sandy shore. Sarda the Mage of Delcannon sat with her staff across her knees, her back against a great oak, looking up into the leaves above her head. On the other side of the tree, her friend Garcel was counting out coins from the money pouch at his belt. How he had come across this money was a question that Sarda had learned to avoid, although the group had been nearly penniless two towns before. Garcel's talents, it was safe to say, did not lie in sorcery, although he was quick with a joke in order to avoid saying exactly where his good fortune came from.

The third member of their party lay on his back in the grass with his hands behind his head, looking up at the clouds with a bemused expression. Mardon was another mage, of a different school than Sarda, and much more advanced. But he never flaunted this fact, nor taunted Sarda for it. In fact, he had often offered words of advice along the way, when Sarda's own attempts at complicated spells had gone awry.

The trio had come to the edge of the Darkling Forest after days of walking, and had left the search parties of the Sorceress Evantra far behind them, wandering in the wrong direction, as far as any mortal sight could tell; they had earned this moment of rest, on this warm and lazy spring day.

This one wasn't so bad... Jack read for a while longer, actually reading most of it this time instead of skipping over wide swaths as usual. It was a pleasant little story, and fit his mood at the moment – it would be nice to sit in the grass for a while with the breeze blowing, quasi-medieval cliché or not. And he kind of liked the other mage character, who was quiet and a little dignified, and who the other mage respected. And who, he noticed, had a familiar light brown shade of hair... The quick-witted thief also bore a passing resemblance to someone he knew. He smiled a little to himself. She might not mean it that obviously, or maybe there was no connection at all, but he still liked the thought of it. It was an almost childishly pleasant fantasy, something he might have cooked up himself as a kid, reading stories and imagining himself into their worlds.

Yawning, Jack left off partway through the story and stretched out on his bed. They would wake him up when dinner was ready, no doubt.

Jack woke up a little while later, not sure how long he'd slept, and rubbed his eyes as he sat up. "Mmph." He stretched and looked at the clock. Only about an hour and a half had passed. They were probably done by now. He got up, yawning, and padded in stocking feet into the hallway.

He heard laughing before he came to the living room, and stopped short in the doorway. Over the back of the couch he could see Ben reclining, one arm draped over the back of the couch. Jane knelt by his side, doing what? Feeding him, from a spoon. Something pink. Strawberry yogurt, it looked like. What in hell? The two laughed again, conspiratorially, and Jane stood up, with a strange slow slinkiness to her movements. And the look on her face was unmistakable, with sly lowered eyelids. He had stumbled into something he wasn't supposed to see. They were doing something, having some kind of private moment of a sort he would never have expected. Jack was finding it harder to breathe, as a knot of panic formed in his stomach, and something he would rather not be feeling pulsed through his body. He backed out of the doorway, turning away down the hallway again. He shut his door behind him and stared at the floor in shock.

Jack woke up a little while later, not sure how long he'd slept, and rubbed his eyes as he sat up. "Mmph." He stretched and looked at the clock. Only about an hour and a half had passed. They were probably done by now. He got up, yawning, and padded in stocking feet into the hallway.

Why hadn't they said anything? Neither of them. Jane had never made any indication, even, and she was about as mysterious as a billboard. And Ben should have said something. He wasn't one to keep secrets. And they were probably making out on his couch right this second. Jack closed his eyes; he kept seeing those moments, the self-satisfied, snickering grin on Ben's face, Jane's lowered eyelids and the suddenly womanly curve of her mouth, they were probably all over each other right now and there was nothing he could do about it. He paced across the room, picturing the two of them, her shirt tossed away onto the living room floor, his shirt unbuttoned – Jack stopped dead in the middle of the room, willing the images away, unable to stop them.

Stop. Stop now. It wasn't like Ben hadn't had girlfriends before; he'd bitched Ben out before for leaving some embarrassing things in the living room, in fact, after one of his more adventurous girlfriends had shown up one night. And since then he'd been relatively courteous. At any rate, it wasn't like he was under any obligation to answer to Jack for his love life; they were both adults. Sometimes Ben would ask Jack to clear a path so he and a girl could have some privacy, which was mildly annoying, but nothing out of the ordinary. It was just part of having a roommate who had an actual social life.

So why, then. Why did he keep imagining this, imagining her head thrown back against the arm of the couch as Ben kissed her throat – stop it. Why did it make his stomach knot like this, what brought on this dread? He'd never felt like this before.

He knew her, though. He'd never known any of Ben's old girlfriends before he brought them over; they were just Ben's girlfriends, usually girls he was indifferent to, nobody he was all that interested in getting to know. He knew Jane. She was – she was real to him, a person of her own. But that wasn't quite it, either.

She was his friend. Jack's friend. Or he wanted her to be. He wasn't sure if the feeling was entirely mutual, if she saw him as something other than the lesser third of the Jane – Ben – Ben's roommate triad. Still. He liked being around her, and he wanted to keep her as a friend. He didn't want to be shuffled off to the side, Ben's inconvenience of a roommate, someone to clear out of the way when they wanted to have a romantic night alone and leave dripped candle wax all over the coffee table. He wanted to be part of it, on his own merit.

How selfish. What if they liked each other, truly? What if they would be happy together? His best friend and a girl he'd gotten to like as well – who deserved better than that? Even if they were a couple now, he could still talk to them both. There was no reason not to. They could all still be friends, it would just be... different.

But he didn't want it to be different. Jack sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, rubbing his forehead. It was selfish, and it was childish. But he didn't want things to change. Things were going well. He liked where they seemed to be heading. The image from the story came back to him. It was like that – a pleasant interlude. He wanted it to go on; he wanted to spend more time with them, to be an equal part, even if it meant getting caught in head-cracking group hugs. They'd never had something like this happen; none of Ben's friends had ever hit it off with Jack like this. They'd never formed a group, and Jack had been uncommonly pleased with how well it went. Jane had been happily respectful of their long-standing friendship, and had latched onto each of them without pulling the two of them apart. And Jack wanted it to go on.

He could be quiet, of course. If there was one thing on earth he knew it was how to keep quiet about what he was thinking. He could step aside, let the two of them go off together and leave him to become an unnecessary afterthought. He could. But the thought made him feel sick.

Jack lay down for a while, trying not to think about it, letting the tension slowly unknot from his stomach, and the jumpy anxiety recede from his body. He could deal with it. Not happily, but he could deal.

There was a tap on the door. Jack sat up, puzzled. The tapping came again - definitely intentional. "Come in?"

Jane opened the door. "Oh, so you are still up. Ben said he heard you walking around in here. Can't sleep?"

"Mm. Kind of."

"Oh, I'm sorry." She closed the door behind her, standing against it with her hands behind her back. Her eyes were sympathetic. Jack shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, suddenly very self-conscious, and glad he hadn't actually decided to go to bed and changed into pajamas. That would be an occasion to die of embarrassment. Still, it was awkward. She didn't seem to notice.

He still wondered why she'd come, though. "So, are you guys going to go out somewhere or something?"

"No... why do you ask?"

"Oh. Just wondered what you had to tell me."

"Nothing. Just wondered if you were okay. Saying hello. For a while we were going to wake you up, but we thought it might be better to let you sleep if you were tired. We missed you; it's not the same without you."

You can say that again, Jack thought. He was quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say to that. "Yeah, I, uh, guess not. But you should have your privacy. Thanks, though."

She blinked, frowning a little. "Our privacy?"

Jack could feel the blush rising again. He really, really did not want to talk about this with her, especially here, especially now. Inwardly he cursed her obtuse streak. "Yeah, you know. It's never good to have a third wheel around."

"Um, it is if you're a tricycle. What are you talking about? We're not, like, an item or anything. We're friends, like you and Ben. Well, maybe not the same way, I mean, I haven't known him nearly as long, but - you know what I mean? Like you and me." She sounded a little hurt.

Like...you and me. So she did think of him as a real friend. Well then. Revelation number two. That would have to come later. In the queue. First things first. "You're not? I thought I saw you - I was going to go out there and talk to you guys, but I saw you..." Jack swallowed, looked at the floor. "I guess you were feeding him, and it looked kind of, you know, sexy." Kind of. Right. Quite possibly the most disturbing moment of arousal he'd ever had was "kind of" sexy. And afterward he'd been "kind of" upset.

"Oh, my gosh." Her hands flew to her mouth, and a blush pinked her cheeks even more strongly than his own. "That wasn't - oh, my gosh. We were just kidding around. We were joking about how he was going to be a big rock star now and lie on a chaise lounge all day with harem girls fanning him with palm leaves and feeding him ice cream. We were just kidding around. That's really not how I meant it at all. It wasn't serious. Oh, I'm so embarrassed."

"Oh. I... well. Couldn't be as embarrassed as I am right now, I'm sure."

"No, no, you didn't know. Jack, I'm so sorry if you were misled. If I made you feel bad I'd feel awful."

He breathed in and out, almost disturbed by how relieved he felt. His head felt light; he wanted to lie down for a moment, but that wasn't an option. He wanted her to stop talking, though. Above all, he wanted her to stop apologizing in that hurt voice, blundering right into the center of his embarrassment without realizing what she did. And he wanted to stop thinking about that moment, replaying it. And he wanted to stop picturing that image he'd had of Ben lying over her on the couch, kissing her. It had to go away. Right now. "It's okay. I mean, I jumped to conclusions."

"I'm sorry," she repeated, and before he looked up she had bent down and hugged him. "To me you're always welcome. I don't want you thinking you should stay away."

Please stop, he thought, through fatigue and relief and shock and the sick awareness of what this was doing to his libido despite the complete innocence with which it was intended, please stop, please stop, please stop... "It's okay," he managed to say. Please stop, please don't let me know what it feels like to have a girl talking in my ear like that, saying such sweet things. Especially you. I can't have this. It hurts. I want to hug you back. I don't want to want to hug you back. Not like that. Not here. This isn't right. I don't want to think about this. Please stop.

Jane pulled away gently, one hand still resting on his shoulder. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Please stop touching me, please... "I'm just... tired. Kind of weirded out, still." Kind of? And night is kind of dark. "I need to get some sleep. It's been a long day."

"Yeah. I should be going soon anyway. Sleep well, Jack." She rubbed his shoulder and stepped back. "I hope you feel better. Sorry about the confusion."

"Forget about it. I'll see you."

She smiled. "Later."

And she left, and when she was gone he lay down again and wondered if he could ever sleep. But although his thoughts whirled around in circles that never seemed to end, sleep crept up on him regardless.

He woke a few hours later, lights on, still dressed, squinting at the clock. "Mmph." Jack dragged himself to his feet and plodded toward the bathroom; his mouth tasted bitter and sour, and he was annoyed at having fallen asleep without brushing his teeth. In the living room the bluish light from the television still flickered. Ben was still up, watching some movie or other. He turned around when Jack approached.

"Hey. Can't sleep?"

"Fell asleep without meaning to. Going back in a minute."

"Hm." Ben returned his attention to the television.

"Can't believe you're still up."

"I was too wound up, for a while. I'm off at Death Star tomorrow, so it doesn't really matter. Don't have to get up till, like, three."

"Mm." Jack stood behind the couch for a minute, thinking about the two of them, Ben and Jane, what he had seen and what he had imagined afterward. And the sound of her voice close to his ear. And the brush of her hair on his cheek. Wrong... wrong. Stop it. "Ben."

"Yeah."

"Are you... are you and Jane planning on getting together?"

"Are we what?" Ben turned around again, hooking his elbow over the back of the couch. "You mean like, dating together?"

"Yeah. I just wondered."

"No, I hadn't 'planned' on it. I mean, it's not out of the question if that's how things go, but I have no intention of moving things that way. Why, do you want to ask her out?"

"I don't know. No. No, I don't think so. I just... I guess I'm in that kind of mood where I think about it a lot, and since she's around I start thinking about her."

"Captain Elusive strikes again. What do you mean, Jack. You want to find a girlfriend?"

"Mm. I guess. Maybe."

"Or are you just looking to get laid?"

"No! I mean, that's... not a bad thing, but no!"

"'Cause I've been comparison shopping, and that big scary lady with the suspicious area down at First and River has very competitive rates."

"You only get a discount for having the frequent shopper card."

"Heh." Ben smirked for a second, and then his expression returned to normal. "Seriously, Jane's nice and all, but I don't have any plans like that. I don't think she's my type."

"Hm."

"Alternatively, you know where the magazines are."

Jack cracked a smile. "Perv."

"You say that now."

Jack laughed, shaking his head. "Good night, Ben."

"Good night."

6. Nine Drawn And Quartered At Out-Of-Hand Renaissance Fair

[Skipped: Jack and Jane play air hockey and talk about the games they played growing up. Jane talks Jack into trying an MMORPG based on the ones she used to play.]

They were at the doors of the arcade now, and once on the sidewalk they headed toward Jane's building. Mercifully, Jane stopped chattering for a while as they were on the street. Although he didn't mind her talking much of the time (and it was much of the time), a break was welcome every now and again. And, of course, a side benefit of bonding through Sorcery Realms was that she couldn’t be talking the whole time...

When they reached the steps of her building Jack stopped, and Jane ran up the steps. She turned at the top. "You can come up if you want. I have to find the discs. It shouldn't take too long, though."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It's cold out here, come on."

"All right." He followed her inside.

"Sorry, we don't have an elevator."

"That's okay... what floor do you live on?"

"Fourth." She bit her lip apologetically. "Sorry."

"It's all right."

She ran up the stairs too fast for him to keep up, which was a bit embarrassing – but at least by the time he made it upstairs, he didn't have to wait for her to open the door. Jane let him in and locked the door behind them. "I'll just be a minute."

Jack looked around a little, trying not to be too obvious about it, as she disappeared into another room. There wasn't much to see – the door opened into a kitchen, with a door at one end that was probably a bathroom, and the room Jane had gone into. He followed her that way, to find that the other room was the only other room in the apartment. It was also an almost scary example of a fan's den, with a row of little Magical Guardress Sakura figures lined up along the edge of a shelf on the desk, and several posters of various other movies on the walls. Jane herself was rifling through a box full of CDs. "I installed it so long ago that I don’t remember where the install disks are," she explained.

"Hm." Jack gazed thoughtfully at one of the posters, trying to puzzle out what exactly it was. He thought he'd seen mention of it somewhere before, but he couldn't quite place it.

"Here we go!" Jane stood up with a CD case in one hand. She followed his line of sight. "Oh, heh. Yeah. That's, uh, another series I like. Night and Steel. It's about a couple who go around righting injustices, even though one of them's technically dead and the other is cursed to turn into a lizard-man every so often. It's, um, an acquired taste."

"I can imagine. Yeah, I think I've heard of that. I thought it was, um. Porn, though."

She laughed nervously. "No, no, it's not. It's got some adult stuff, but it's not porn. Come on, like I'd put that on my walls."

"Well, you've got the dead guy and the lizard-man doing something strange up there."

"Pfft, standard romance-novel clinch. Only with swirly mist stuff and a couple of extra dragon limbs. Get with the times."

"Yeah, well, most of what I'm used to involves giant lasers and small planets blowing up. It's just subculture shock."

"Sub-subculture shock," she echoed.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Heh. Anyway, don't worry; I won't make you watch Night and Steel. Oh, though. You want me to bring my MGS DVDs? Ben hasn't brought back any movies for this weekend, has he?"

"Nah, just something he wants to see. We didn't have plans."

"So, you up for it?"

"Sure."

"Okay." She packed the box into her backpack along with the game disks. "All right, ready to go."

"Okay."

They trekked back down the stairs to the street and headed for Jack and Ben's apartment. Half a block away, they were accosted by a group of small boys in Cub Scout uniforms, armed with a sales pitch about raising money for their annual camp. Jane bought three lottery tickets from them, despite a little sighing from Jack.

"What? They're just kids!"

"It's not that, it's that they have them wandering around outside, in October, in the middle of the city, selling useless tokens to strangers. It's commercial and kind of tawdry."

"Well, it's better than making their parents pay for it all. At least this way more of them can go, I bet." Jane stuck the tickets into her pocket.

"Yeah, well. I'd rather do a car wash."

"You'd look weird in a Cub Scout uniform."

"I know, blue does nothing for me."

They made it the rest of the way to Ben and Jack's building without incident, and Jane hugged her backpack and made little happy bounces throughout the ride in the elevator, drawing a mildly amused look from Goth Guy from Six. Once they were inside, she unpacked the game disks and held them up. "First?"

"Yeah. It should be on already." He led her back to his room, feeling only a little awkward. After spending this much time with her over the last couple of months, he felt less jumpy, less likely to be made self-conscious by things like this. He felt a lot more relaxed. It was nice, he reflected, as she settled into his desk chair.

"Swanky chair," she commented.

"Thanks. Christmas present."

"Mm." She started the installing program and swiveled around to face him as it ran. "So, what do you think you'll pick? There are about twenty different classes to start with, not counting all the subclasses."

"I'm not sure. I might just have to see them and see what looks interesting."

"Okay. I've liked playing a mage, but a lot of them are pretty neat. I think it'd be best if you at least picked something that does some adventuring, so we can play together. I spend most of my time on SR making adventuring runs out in the wilderness, exploring and stuff. You can get a decent amount of money that way, and it's pretty interesting. Never know what you'll find."

"I think it's done."

She turned around. "Yep. Here, you take the wheel." She got up, and took a seat on his bed as he sat down.

Jack looked through the options for a new character, thinking not only about what he'd like to play but what he had read about in Jane's story. Maybe picking a mage was too obvious, after all. Besides, it was a little creepy to follow her story that closely even if she didn't realize the connection – it was like forming himself to fit her dream in order to get her to like him, which he didn't want to do. It seemed dishonest. Besides, she might like playing with him only because he was playing out someone else's role, which he wouldn't want either. It would be better to bond on their own terms.

Way to overthink a video game, you nerd, he thought as he came to the end of the selections. He went back to one of the ones that had interested him – a ranger, or an adventurer skilled with archery and exploration – and nodded toward the screen, looking at Jane. "What do you think?"

"They're pretty cool. Easy to learn, I hear. Should be really good for adventuring, and it won't have much overlap with what mine does, so we won't be redundant. I like it."

"Great." Jack picked that one, picked a name and set up the rest of his account. "You know, though, it would probably be boring to sit here and watch me try to learn the basic stuff. And I still have to read the manual and everything. I can do this on my own time. We can meet up once I'm not embarrassingly new at it."

"Okay, that's fine."

Jack closed the program and gave the disk back to Jane. "Thanks. I can't wait. I've been playing this for a couple of years now, and it's so cool to get to play with somebody I know. I've really liked this game; I've had a lot of fun with it. I've been playing my character, Sarda, all that time. She's gotten pretty good. Bought a little house and everything. Heh..." She looked down for a second, looking a little self-deprecating. "It's kind of silly, but I've written some stories about her, too, what her life might have been like before she started adventuring. Spinoffs, and stuff like that. Not really the record of how I've played, but more like using the game world as a setting. You know? Well... I guess it's pretty silly, but it's something I do for fun. Beats stamp collecting, anyway."

"Hey. Speak no ill of the great art of philately."

"Heh. Yeah, yeah. Anyway."

"It's not stupid. Sounds kind of fun."

She nodded. "Well, you want to watch some MGS?"

"Sure. Bring it on."

"Oh, I left it back in the living room. Hang on. Oh, wait, where's your DVD player?"

"I just have a drive in this thing," he said, nodding at his computer. "It looks pretty good on this monitor, though. Probably better than it would on our TV."

"Okay, no problem. Be right back."

"Hey-" he said as she was in the doorway. She turned. "You want popcorn?"

"Heh. Sure, that'd be great."

"Okay. I'll make some." They left the room; Jane headed for the living room as Jack went to the kitchen. A few minutes later they reconvened with a giant bowl of buttered popcorn and a box set of imported superheroine cartoons. Not a bad combination, Jack thought amusedly.

He turned the monitor to face the middle of the room and put the first disc in as Jane made herself comfortable on his bed, lying on her stomach with the popcorn bowl on the floor at the foot of the bed. She'd taken her shoes off, and her stockinged feet kicked the covers idly, like a kid watching Saturday morning cartoons. Jack felt a little uncomfortable at this at first, but tried to put it out of his mind. Completely innocent. She was perfectly cavalier about it; it made no difference to her whether they were in his room or in the living room. Good attitude, he thought. Stop worrying about it. Besides, it looked comfortable. He almost envied her casual approach.

He started up the first episode and crossed the room to turn off the light, leaving on the smaller desk light to see by, then settled into his chair.

"What's the matter with you?" Jack looked up. Jane thumped the covers next to her with her free hand, the other being full of popcorn. "Get over here."

"All right..."

"Now. We're all friends here, don't be shy. You will have popcorn and you will be comfortable. Come on."

Feeling more than a little embarrassed, Jack took off his shoes and climbed onto the bed next to her. She shoved him with her shoulder. "See? Better?"

"Yeah." It wasn't so bad, after all; he had a full-sized bed, and there was enough room for both of them to lie comfortably without being too close.

"This popcorn is good, by the way. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He munched some popcorn as the opening song ended and the show started. For a while they watched together in friendly silence – apart from the munching sounds – and Jack got absorbed in the show, or as well as one could get absorbed in a mildly cheesy show with, he realized nowadays, less than stellar production values. When the heroine made her first transformation from unassuming schoolgirl into an armor-clad superheroine and dusted a few space demons, Jane stifled a little giggle.

"I can't help it. I love their battle cries. 'Shining Valor Arrow!' I want one of those."

Jack smiled. "I think it would attract a bit of attention these days."

"Yeah, but I could get one that was actually useful. Like 'Arrive, City Bus of Destiny!'"

Jack broke down laughing, hiding his face in the covers. "Battle cries for the twenty-first century."

"Yeah. Exactly."

In the break between the first and second episodes, as the credits ran and the opening song repeated, Jack got drinks for both of them and settled in again. It was nice like this. It was comfortable, and friendly. He was glad Jane had asked him to move.

They watched through the first four episodes, through the introductions of the rest of Magical Guardress Sakura's friends – slash – magical sidekicks. Jack got up to change the disc at the end of the fourth episode.

"So which one's your favorite?" Jane asked.

"Of the Guards?"

"Yeah."

"Chika. Definitely."

"Me too. She's smart but not stuffy. And her battle uniform kicks ass."

"Yeah..." He decided not to mention his adolescent fixation on Chika's battle uniform, which like most of the show's "armor" left several key points of anatomy uncovered. "And after that, I think my second favorite is Mitsuko."

"Aahh, I hate Mitsuko."

"Aw, really?"

"Well, I don't HATE her, but she's probably my least favorite."

"Why is that?"

"She's annoying. And she's flighty, and she never stops talking, and she embarrasses people... she's such an airhead. It gets so irritating."

Jack settled back into his place beside Jane, wondering how to phrase this without revealing the fact that this character reminded him of her. "I don't think she's that bad. She has a lot of energy and cheers people up."

"Yeah, well. I don't like her that much. My second favorite is Sakura."

"Yeah, well, she's the star of the show."

"I know, but I like her besides just being the star of the show. I like that heroic bit. She's kind of heroic even when she's not being a hero, literally. Always has some kind of big dream or goal. I like that. It's inspiring."

"Hmm. Yeah, I can see that."

They finished off the popcorn and Coke as the next few episodes played. Near the end of the seventh episode, Jack heard the front door close and a muffled call, "Hello?"

"Back here!" Jane called.

Ben appeared in the doorway. "Hey, Jane. Oh, MGS. Did they get to the part where they form a lesbian commando squad and fight drug lords and zombie pirates in the jungles of Tokyo? I love that part."

"I think that was the uncut version," Jack joked.

"Pirates in the jungle?" Jane sat up, turned partway to face both of them.

"Yeah. Who would ever think to find them there? It's a brilliant strategy."

Ben sat near the head of the bed with his legs crossed, but Jane reached out her hand toward him, and pulled him forward until he gave in and lay between the two of them. Jane kicked her feet again, grinning. Ben chuckled. Jack smelled coffee and smoke from his clothes. It felt kind of strange to notice that.

"So which one is your favorite?" Jane asked, once the three of them had watched for a while longer.

"Hmm. Either the kind of scary mystical one with the long dark hair – Tomiko, right?"

"Yeah, Tomiko."

"She's cool. She's got that kind of mysterious, spiritual thing going. Or, oh yeah – Akemi. The ninja. She kicks more ass than the rest of them combined, I'm sorry. She was busy kicking ass while the rest of them were doing algebra homework."

"Doesn't she like girls?" Jack smirked.

"Yes," Ben stated enthusiastically, thumping the covers with one fist. "And that clinches it."

"So your ideal girlfriend is a lesbian ninja," Jack restated.

"Yes. A busty lesbian ninja. Ooh. Mm. Yeah. Yeah, she's my favorite. Definitely."

"Um." Jack laughed nervously. "Should we leave you and the video alone, Ben?"

"Oh, stuff it. You just haven't admitted the universal appeal of hot girls in revealing body armor who can do insane acrobatics in zero gravity. And then make out with one another."

"They never did that," Jane corrected with a mock-disdainful tone.

"In my mind they do." Ben sighed dreamily. "Ohhhh yes indeed."

Jack and Jane both snickered. They turned their attention back to the show as the rest of the episode played.

"I should play this song sometime," Ben remarked as the ending theme played once again. "I figured it out a while back. Sad nerd that I am. A sad, love-struck by lesbian ninja nerd. Anyway, I think I could still remember it."

"Hee! Yeah, you should play it at the coffee shop!" Jane sat up, pushing Ben's shoulder playfully. "That would be so hilarious."

"Oh, that, yeah... heh."

It had been a few weeks since Ben's second shot at open mic night, which had also gone well and without incident. He hadn't expressed much enthusiasm about trying again, although he had seemed to enjoy it well enough that night.

"Oh, come on. You did so well the last two times. I'd like to see you again. Okay, even if you don't play the MGS theme. Just play. Pretty please?"

"Eh." Ben fidgeted for a moment, stretching his shoulders. "I'll think about it, all right?"

"Okay."

"That reminds me, though. Did you see the flyer about the Halloween party at the Edge?"

"No. Is it on the bulletin board in the back of the floor?"

"Yeah."

"I hardly ever look at that. What is it?"

"It's... a Halloween party at the Edge," Ben repeated. The Edge, Jack remembered, was a club of some sort in the neighborhood. Somewhere people went to pack in and watch bands and dance or something like that. He'd never been there, but Ben had a few times. Ben went on, "It's the Friday before Halloween. Ten bucks to go, with DJs and all that and a costume contest. Free beer if you're in costume. Not too bad. I mean, I know we're not exactly the party animals of the century, here, but it sounds pretty fun to me. Get out for a while, for a change of pace. What do you think?"

"That sounds fun," Jane said. "I have a bunch of costumes from past years and stuff, so I have no problem finding one. Would you guys want to dress up?"

"Sure," Ben said. "That's part of the fun of it. Jack, what do you think?"

"Hm, sounds okay to me. As long as we can pull it together in three weeks, of course."

"Right. There's just me and you; I’m sure we can think of something between the three of us."

"Heh. I have one. Ben, you could take your guitar and go as a beatnik. Dress all in black and let that goatee you had in that picture in the living room grow back-"

"Hell. I should have burned that thing."

Jane laughed. "I think it would be funny."

"Ehh. I don't want to take my guitar in somewhere crowded like that. It might get broken. Besides, I can't say 'cool, daddy-o' with a straight face."

"Try it," Jane said.

"Cool, daddy-o." Ben started snickering. "See?"

"Aww. Well, you do have a good point about the guitar."

"Yeah. We'll think of something, don't worry. So got any ideas for Jacky?"

"Hm, nothing yet."

"Just as long as it's not silly," Jack said. "I don't want to look like an idiot."

"Don't worry, you already-" Jane kicked him.

"I won't make you look like an idiot," Jane said. "Though I had my heart set on lending you my Star Ranger 2005 costume." She sighed melodramatically.

"You could say that, yeah."

"Good, because the metallic miniskirt look does nothing for your figure," Ben said.

"It's the season four version, with the leotard and tights," Jane informed him.

"Oh, well then, in that case."

"Very funny, guys." Jack was busy trying not to think about how Jane would look in that particular outfit. Even though he had a pretty good guess that whatever she did wear would be along the same lines. Well, he thought fatalistically, it certainly did no harm to be around a cute girl even if he wasn't dating her...

Cute? Where did that come from? Jack blinked. He meant the outfit. Right.

"We can go down to the costume shop on Twelfth Street sometime and find something, I bet," Jane was saying.

"Okay, I'm up for it."

"I'll figure something out on my own," Ben said. "You can take him on as your evil Halloween costume project of doom."

"Right. I promise I won't make you a magical girl, Jack."

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

"What are friends for?"

Part II: Free Beer

Ch. 7: Scrappy Band Of Lovable Misfits No Match For Rich Kids

[Skipped: Jack and Jane play Sorcery Realms for a while.]

Well then. That was... unique. Jack got to his feet, stretching again, and headed out into the apartment to brush his teeth before bed. In the living room Ben was sprawled on the couch, fast asleep, and still wearing his uniform from the coffee shop. The light in the kitchen was on, spilling enough light into the living room to see dimly.

"Ben. Hey."

"Mm."

"You'd sleep better if you went back to your room."

"Okay," Ben answered, probably not comprehending what he had said.

"Come on." Jack leaned over the back of the couch and jostled Ben's arm. Ben stirred uncomfortably and opened his eyes. For a minute he looked up foggily but calmly, his face half hidden in shadow. Jack could hear his breathing. He swallowed, wondering if Ben might still be dreaming. His voice, when he spoke, wasn't much louder than a whisper.

"Jack."

"Yeah."

Ben said nothing for a minute, and Jack wondered if he might have fallen asleep again. He reached down to tap his shoulder again, and Ben startled. "What? Oh, fuck." He sat up, groaning. "Fell asleep again. Damn. What time is it?"

"Only about twelve-thirty."

"Mm, okay." Ben got to his feet sleepily and rubbed his eyes. "Thanks. Gives me a hell of a sore neck to sleep like that all night."

"No problem. Sleep well."

Ben smiled tiredly. "Always looking out for me, aren't you."

Jack looked away, shrugging. "Yeah, that's how it goes."

"I'm sorry."

Jack looked up. "No, that's not what I meant. I mean, we... you know."

Ben shrugged, waved it off. "Never mind. I had a weird dream. Gets me in a weird frame of mind. Need more sleep, I guess."

Jack nodded. "Me too. Good night."

"Good night." Ben passed him, heading toward his own room. Jack waited, feeling a lingering discontent, a sorrow and a worry he couldn't define or describe. His best friend was in a place he couldn't imagine, and he suddenly felt alone. Worse yet, something told him there was nothing he could do about it.

"You're not a burden, Ben."

His roommate turned, a vague figure in the shadows.

"I wish that's what I was worried about, Jacky."

Jack hesitated for a moment, bothered in some way he couldn't understand by the use of the childhood nickname, by the tone of his voice. "You can talk to me any time, you know."

Ben laughed quietly to himself. "Not this time. But thank you." He turned away again and closed his bedroom door behind him.

Jack stood in the living room for a little while longer. He felt drained now, more tired than he had been five minutes before; his hands felt leaden, his eyes dry.

After a little while he turned and headed for the kitchen, to turn the light off, first of all, but he spotted a notepad on the counter and had an idea. He walked into the kitchen and wrote a brief note: I'll get the food, you get the movies. Friday. You and me. Jack

He tacked it to the refrigerator with a magnet, shut the light off, and navigated his way to the bathroom in the dark. Once he was finished there, he went back into the dark hallway, and passed by Ben's door. For a moment he considered stopping, saying something – but there was nothing he could say, not knowing what was wrong, or why Ben wouldn't talk to him about it. Well, maybe spending some time on their own, away from work and everyone else, would let Ben bring up whatever was wrong. Or maybe they would just be able to relax and forget it for a while. Either way, things would improve.

Ch. 8: Everyone In Family Claims To Be The Black Sheep

Jack remembered only when someone knocked on the front door on Thursday that he was supposed to go Halloween costume shopping with Jane. Annoyed at having forgotten, he closed the window he'd been working in and headed for the door to let her in. "Sorry, sorry."

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah, sure."

"We'll have to take the blue line over to the other side of the city. Is that okay?"

"Eh, yeah. Not much we can do about it, I guess." He wasn't particularly in the mood to think about Halloween, or parties, or costumes, or shopping with Jane – through no fault of hers – but he'd agreed to do this now, and it had to be done some time.

He let Jane pay attention to where they were going and simply followed along with her as they headed for the bus stop. Jane was going on and on about costume ideas and what she thought might suit him, a track of thought that lasted her all the way to the stop and for about two and a half minutes afterward. She realized he wasn't responding much, however, and slowed to a halt.

"Is something wrong?"

"Not really. I don't know. Just not in the mood, I guess. I just kind of want to get this over with and get back home."

"Hm." She nodded. "Well, it won't be that bad, I think. We'll find something good for ya." Jack tried to smile a bit, and she tilted her head curiously. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I guess I'm kind of preoccupied lately. Things on my mind."

"What's going on?"

Jack looked up the street for any sign of the bus, so he could get out of discussing this. Arrive, City Bus of Destiny, indeed. He sighed. "I think something's bothering Ben, actually. I don't know what's up, and he won't tell me. It worries me."

"Aww. I'm sorry."

"Has he said anything to you?"

"I haven't worked with him lately. He came in to play yesterday, but I didn't talk to him much-"

"He came in to play? At the open mic night?"

"Yeah. You didn't know?"

"No. He didn't say anything. I wasn't paying attention; I thought he was working that night."

"No, he came in. Did pretty well. But he did seem more quiet than usual. I wondered if something was up, but he didn't stick around long to talk."

"Huh." This was strange; Ben hadn't seemed to want to play very much in the first place, so it was odd that he would do so not only without prompting but without even letting them know about it. "Out of curiosity, what did he play?"

"One of his own and a cover, I think, as usual. Oh wait, here's the bus." They boarded and paid, and when they'd found a seat Jane went on. "That one of his that goes daaah da da, da da..."

Jack cut her off before people noticed her singing, which made him feel conspicuous. "Yeah, I know which one you mean."

"And I didn't know the cover, but somebody else did. It was really kind of... like, moody. Like guy playing in a coffee shop that's not Ben music. Pretty, though. It went like 'Da da da dahh da dah da dah...'"

Jack blinked. "I think I know that one, too. He learned it because an old girlfriend of his was really into that band. Kind of not his style, though." That girlfriend's tenure had been unusually painful for that reason, so he remembered it clearly. Jack hated that music; the singer's voice made him want to dive under the bed and cover his ears. But he had to admit that stripped of the offending vocal stylings it wasn't as bad. He hadn't minded listening to Ben playing the handful of songs he'd picked up from that era.

"He seemed into it last night. So do you think something's up? Maybe he's getting back with his ex or something?" She bounced a little in her seat, her hands gripping the rail in front of them.

"No, no way. She moved out to Oregon two years ago, and their breakup was kind of a nonevent."

"Hm. Well, people liked it, at least. Really depressing song. But pretty. He does it well."

"Yeah, he does."

"They said it's a classic, but I've never heard it. I think it's goth music or something. Lots of death and stuff."

"Kinda. Yeah, I doubt you'd have heard it."

"Hm." Jane rested her chin on her hand, looking out of the window. "And he's not talking to you? He tells you everything."

He does? Normally they didn't have to tell each other much, because the few events that happened in their lives were notable enough that the other would know about them without having to be told. Jack thought again of that strange moment late at night, of Ben's tired, quiet voice. 'Not this time.'

"No, he hasn't talked to me. I have a feeling something's wrong, though. I'll see him tomorrow; we had planned on hanging out for a while."

"Just you guys?"

"Yeah. Sorry. I don't want to cut you out, it's just that we haven't had much of a chance to get back to the old way for a while. Bonding moment, you know?"

"Heh. Yeah." Jane smiled. "I hope you have fun. I hope he feels better. It's so not like him. Or at least as well as I know him, it's not like him."

"Generally it's not." Sometimes if something particularly troublesome was on Ben's mind he would withdraw like this, but usually he would at least give Jack an idea of what was bothering him. He'd never been this elusive about something that was important enough to make him this preoccupied, this dulled.

'I wish that was what I was worried about, Jacky.'

And now you make me worry, Jack thought, and I have no idea what to do, and I can't take that. Why, I don't know, but I can't. We're supposed to look out for each other, but you won't let me do that. Still, there's nothing I can do now. Tomorrow. I'll figure it out tomorrow.

"We're almost there," Jane said. "You'll figure it out, Jack. Don't worry about it now." She squeezed his shoulder, smiling sympathetically.

"Thank you."

They disembarked, and Jack followed her into the costume store. He still couldn't quite shake the lingering tinge of melancholy, but he could at least give his opinion on the things Jane pointed out or suggested. She kept her word about not suggesting something too silly, for the most part, and finally they came to something between silly and serious – a ninja costume with a plastic sword.

Jack eyed the outfit suspiciously. "Are you sure it won't look stupid on me? I'm, you know. Not in the best shape."

"Ah, you're fine." She poked his stomach playfully, and he jumped back – partly unnerved at the invasion of his personal space, partly from embarrassment, and partly from the sudden shock of ticklishness.

She looked at him slyly. "Are you ticklish?"

He swallowed, commanding his jangling nerves to settle. "No comment."

"Anyway, you have a little squish, but it probably won't even matter. I like it; it'd be kind of cool. Kind of funny, but not stupid funny. You know?"

"Yeah, I guess it's not too bad." It did please him that he could hide most of his face with this costume – not that he would know anyone at the party who would recognize him, but it couldn't hurt.

"So will you go with this one?"

"All right."

"Nice." She handed it to him, and he tucked it under his arm. "It's not too expensive either, which is good. You don't even want to know how much mine cost. Whew."

"What are you going as?"

She laughed. "I'd kind of like it to be a surprise. Anyway, we're done, right?"

"Yeah."

After Jack paid for the costume, they left and waited for the bus in the opposite direction. Jane sat on the bench in the bus shelter, while Jack stood out in the sidewalk, with the costume store's bag hooked over his arm and his hands in his pockets. It was fully dark now, and colder than it had been in the daytime.

He looked out into the dark street, mulling over the following day, thinking bland thoughts at first about what he could get, whether the apartment needed to be cleaned, whether he should order out for pizza or get the ingredients for something that Ben liked to cook. The former was probably better, he thought; it was kind of a bait and switch to ask someone to cook on the spot, even if he did enjoy it. Though, then, it might help him relax. Of course, not knowing what was wrong made it harder to know what would help... Best to focus on something simple and fun, probably. Maybe he could pick up a six-pack tomorrow, too. They didn't drink very often, but it would probably settle his nerves as well to have something sedative. And one split between two of them wasn't excessive. That would work...

Work at what? Jack sighed. Relaxing them. Both of them, Ben first and himself second. Maybe Ben would talk to him, maybe he wouldn't. But he could get away from whatever was on his mind for a while.

Jack felt a touch on his back and turned. Jane had stood up and come to him; she rubbed his back lightly, through his coat. He turned away again. The impulse to hug her was so strong it sickened him. It would be so easy, in the first few moments, to hold her tight and let her soothe him, let her constant encouragement ease his worry.

But then what?

Would she take it the wrong way? Would he? Would it even be the wrong way, or would he mean it? He had been unsure once, and some part of him was still unsure. Annoying as she could be sometimes, and as much as he enjoyed her company in the better moments – enough to resist risking it by letting things change – this sick worry might go away if he let this move forward, not to mention the long frustration that had soaked so deeply into every part of his mind and body that he wondered if it would ever go away. He had a chance to be happy, even for a little while. Who knew if that chance would come again?

But then what? Would she say no, or tell him he'd misinterpreted it all? Or say yes only from some sense of pity? Would they fight, and hate each other, and destroy anything good that existed now?

And there was always the chance that this was about Jane in the first place, that to make a move on her would mean stabbing Ben in the back. Ben had denied any interest in her before, but there was no way to be sure now. He would not damage Ben's friendship over this. He could never risk that.

"Thank you," he said, barely above a whisper, but did not move otherwise.

"It'll be all right," she said. "You'll have fun tomorrow, and chill for a while, and get through this. I know you will. I love you guys; I hate to see you both so unhappy." Her hand squeezed his shoulder again; she was standing close behind him. "I wish there was something I could do, but I don't think there is. I just want you to be happy. Both of you."

Jack closed his eyes. It would be so easy. He breathed in the cold air, let it out carefully. "Thank you, Jane. You're good to us."

She hugged him around the shoulders with one arm. "You guys are awesome. How could I not at least try? Oh, look, the blue line."

The bus pulled up to the stop, saving Jack from further struggles with his impulses. He was quiet through the ride, soaking in the heat, considering going to sleep as soon as he got home. Jane spoke little as well, and looked out the window with a distant, almost blank expression. She got off the bus first, and waved to him as she stepped off, with a little smile. He smiled back, thinly, and waited to pull the cord to signal his stop.

The door closed at six on the following evening. "Hello?"

"Hello! Be right out!" Jack shut his computer down and went out into the hall, pulling on another shirt over the one he was wearing.

Ben still had his coat on, and a Death Star bag hung from his right hand. "Hey."

"Hey. Whatcha got?"

Ben smirked a little. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Jack made a motion as if to unbuckle his belt, then took a step toward the kitchen. "Pizza. Frozen, but the good kind of frozen. Chips and dip if you want 'em. And a six-pack to split, but there's Coke too, of course. I'll start the oven now."

"Excellent. You have taste."

"Don't I, though." He consulted the box and set the oven to preheat. Ben followed him in a moment later, having taken off his coat and shoes, but still carrying the bag of movies.

"And I have..." Ben whisked the stack of tapes out of the bag. Jack turned and read the titles along the spines of the stack.

"Niiiice. What's first?"

"I have no preference. Whichever." Ben set down the tapes and opened the bag of chips on the counter, then retrieved the dip from the fridge. He stood leaning back against the counter and started munching.

"You'll spoil your appetite that way."

"It is as wide as the ocean and boundless, my man. I highly doubt it." Crunch.

As Ben munched contemplatively, Jack busied himself with putting the pizza in the oven. He set the timer and got a Coke from the refrigerator. As he was about to open the can, Ben gave him a dubious look.

"Hey. Soft drink man. If I'm going down, so are you."

"I'll have some when the pizza's done. And it's only three beers each, over the whole night. Come on."

"Yes, but we all know you have all the tolerance of a second grader, and I am determined to be dazed and stupid by two o'clock this morning even if I have nothing to drink but tap water. So it will happen."

"You're not dazed and stupid now?"

"Do you want me to beat you up for a few minutes?"

Jack opened the Coke can and sipped with a look of studied nonchalance. "And get blood all over our nice linoleum?"

"Beats messing up the living room carpet, doesn't it?"

"Are we speaking in all questions now?"

"Why, is it that obvious?"

"Do you think anything you do isn't obvious?"

Ben cracked his knuckles theatrically, with an evil smirk. "Think you can take me, big talker?"

"Oh, you mean you're not bottom this time?"

Ben laughed soundlessly to himself, baring his teeth. He took another chip and loaded it with dip and crunched it slowly. Jack took another drink of Coke. They stared across the kitchen, past each other.

Ben spoke first. "Uncomfortable place for it, anyway."

"I imagine so."

"Easy to clean, though."

"Yeah. But all those hard surfaces. Ow."

"You know what you just walked into, don't you." Crunch.

"Now I do, but you didn't go for it."

"I have scruples."

"Are they leather?"

Ben smiled that tight little smirk again and got himself a beer from the refrigerator. He opened it and took a drink.

Jack watched him thoughtfully. "So how are you feeling?"

Ben licked his lips. "Thirsty. And horny, if you must know. Is that all?"

Jack looked away, trying not to laugh suddenly. "That's not what I meant. I meant long-term. Are you going to tell me what's been going on?"

Ben did not look at him as he answered. "Not now."

Jack nodded and looked at the timer. There was a while left to go. "So are you ready for the Halloween party?"

Ben smiled. "Just about. How about you? You went to get something yesterday, right?"

"Yeah. I ended up getting a ninja costume."

"Heh. Not bad, not bad. That could work for you."

"I hope so. I'm kind of looking forward to the party, which is surprising."

"Yeah, I'll say. Shouldn't be, though. You'll have a good time, don’t worry."

"I'm not."

"Good."

Jack leaned past Ben to take a couple of chips and leaned with his back against the counter beside him for a moment, eating slowly, waiting for the timer to go off.

"You are going to tell me what's wrong, right?" Jack said quietly.

"I'm thinking about it, Jack. I'm not even sure myself what's going on, so it's not easy. Don't push it, all right?"

"All right, all right. I just wanted you to know I want to help."

"I don't know if you can."

"Yeah, well, I want to even if I can't. It worries me. Jane's worried too; she told me you weren't talking to her on Wednesday."

"She told you about that? Hm."

"Yeah. I mean, it's no big deal as far as I'm concerned. I would have liked to go and watch, but I'm not going to stop you from going without me if you want."

"Hm."

"Is it about her?"

"Jack, I'm not playing Twenty Questions with you about my personal life."

"All right, I'm sorry. I just – I've been worried about this all week, and-"

"Jack."

"Sorry."

"I have reasons for this," Ben said carefully. "I have a feeling once I get started on this, things are going to change, and maybe not for the better. And it will definitely wreck our evening. So I want to make sure I can put it as clearly as possible. Which is why I'm intent on getting myself smashed before I work up the courage to do it."

Jack chuckled. "Come on, it can't be that bad."

Ben looked at him; his gaze was dark and almost critical. "Yes, it can."

"Well then I have a right to know, don't I? Did you lose your job at Death Star or something? You couldn't have; you got those movies today. Ben, if it's that important I have to know." Jack set his soda on the counter and turned to face him. Ben remained still, facing the center of the kitchen.

"It's not my job, either. That's fine. Jack, it's nothing that could damage your life at all. It's something I have to deal with. That's all."

"And I can't help?"

"No."

"Dammit, Ben." Jack turned again, swiped his can from the counter and drank. "You aren't making this easy on yourself, either, dragging things out like this."

"There is no way to make it easy."

Jack groaned in frustration. "I still say you should get it off your chest now, and then we can talk about it and chill out for a while. Then get smashed. And we'll look back on it and laugh."

"I don't know about that."

"Come on. I'm the expert at moping, am I not?"

Ben laughed. "Yeah, you are."

"Well, then?"

Ben took another drink and rolled the beer can between his palms. He sighed and spoke with his eyes closed. "That night when I fell asleep on the couch and you came out to wake me up."

"Yeah, I remember." It had been the night after he'd started playing Sorcery Realms with Jane. He remembered the loaded silence as Ben lay half-asleep, and his strange sadness afterward.

"I... when you woke me up I was in the middle of a dream. I told you that, didn't I."

"Yeah. You said it was a strange dream."

"Right." There was a long pause. "It was also a sexual dream."

Jack felt his cheeks start to warm as he blushed. "Well, there's nothing wrong with-"

"About you."

Jack opened his mouth, but no words would come to him. Ben sighed unevenly and ran a hand through his hair, then took another drink of beer. He opened his eyes, but did not look at Jack. His expression was closed, resigned, distantly pained.

"Ben, I – I'm sorry."

"For what?" Ben looked up, half bitter, half amused, and looked away again. "It's not your fault. You couldn't be less perversion-inspiring if you tried."

"Well, sometimes those things aren't literal, you know. I've had some pretty weird dreams about women at work that I don't even like."

Ben laughed softly, shaking his head. "Yes, but those aren't your best friend, Jack. And they're still women. It's not the same."

"Yeah, but what I mean is, it might not be what you think."

Ben shook his head, rubbing his forehead. "No, well... you know, I thought that at first, but I started thinking about it, and now I'm not so sure. Even if it's not literally true, there's something true to it. I've been thinking about that all week. Thinking about it? Heh. I haven't been able to think about anything else. I had to go to the coffee shop without you because I couldn't stand to think of you hearing me when that's what was on my mind, I thought it might show somehow, I don't know... but the idea just froze me. I had to get it off my chest somehow, but I didn't want you to see it." His gaze was distant, fixed somewhere near the oven across the room. "I don't know what to do, Jack. I don't know if I should leave, or figure out what this is, what this means about me and who I am... I don't know. But I – I think it's real. You know, I think a part of me knew all along, but I wouldn't listen to it. Maybe I wasn't ready to face it. But now I have to."

"Hey," Jack said softly. "It's all right."

Ben shook his head again. "I hate it. I do. I hate that it's such a cliché, I hate that I had to think of you like that, I just... I don't want to let anything change right now, and I wish it could all go away. But it never will."

"There's nothing wrong with it, Ben. Come on." Jack reached out and rubbed his shoulder, the way Jane had done with him. Ben took a sudden shuddering breath, and before Jack could react Ben turned and hugged him. After a moment of shock Jack returned it, and he could feel his friend's body jerk softly as he started to cry. "Oh, Ben. I'm sorry. It'll be all right, don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

"I'm sorry – " Ben pulled away, covered his face with his hand. "I just – I'm sorry. It sounds so much worse when you say it out loud, and yet I'm so relieved. It was weighing on me all the time, and I was thinking I could never tell anyone. I don’t know why, I mean, I bet it would be one of the smallest surprises ever. Which is one reason why I hated it, you know?" He wiped his face with his sleeve and picked up his drink again, took a long drink, wiped his mouth. "It seems like a disappointment. It's what people probably expect."

"Fuck what people expect," Jack said quietly.

"Yeah... yeah. I just didn't want it to be true."

"But it is?"

Ben nodded, looking at the floor. "Yeah."

"Then be true to that. You're under no obligation to them. Or to anyone."

"You're right."

Jack looked around for his own drink, took a sip while trying to frame the thought in his mind. "So, just out of curiosity... do you still like girls?"

Ben's mouth twitched in the beginnings of a smile. "Yeah. I wondered that myself, but yeah, this is a problem of addition and not substitution."

"All right. I'm sorry, I don't mean to be intrusive. I'm just trying to figure this all out."

Ben shrugged. "It's all right. In a way I guess it's not all that different. I've had guys ask me out at the coffee shop before; it's just that now, instead of saying no and feeling really weird about it for days, I'd, you know... consider saying yes." He took another drink, bent the can in half, tossed it into the trash. "I don’t even feel right calling myself bisexual. Nngh." He shuddered a bit. "It sounds so fucking trendy, you know? I'm the same person. I'm just... open to other options. That's all."

Jack nodded. "I see." The question still nagged at the back of his mind: what about the dream? It sounded so selfish. But he wanted to know. "So, is it... okay with me? I mean, like... are we all right? The dream wasn't literal, right? That sounded stupid. Stupid. Augh."

"Stop – stop. Yeah, it's okay. I mean, how could it not be? You're always going to be my best friend, Jack. Yeah, the catalyst of this whole screwed-up process was a hot dream about you, but I think I'm more or less over it. I mean, I'm closer to you than anyone else. I've always been able to talk to you about anything. Maybe my dream was telling me that I could talk to you about this, that I'd be safe with you. Granted, it decided to tell me this in a highly unorthodox manner, but... that's how dreams go, and I'm a horny bastard anyway. Better question is, are you okay with this? I mean, it's not like I can take it back if it doesn't fit or something, but what do you think?"

"I – well." Jack set down his now-empty can and leaned against the counter with his arms folded. "I can't say I'm not surprised. But, I mean... what difference does it make, really? You're still Ben. You're still my best friend, and I still – I feel the same way about you as I always did. That hasn't changed. I mean, it's not like your dating habits have played all that much into our friendship in the first place, so it's not that big a deal." He shrugged. "Does that answer your question?"

Ben smiled. "Yeah. Thanks, Jack. That means a lot to me."

Jack found himself smiling back. "We're cool. Don't worry about that. All right?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

The kitchen timer went off – finally! – and Ben stepped forward to grab some dish towels.

"Hey, I was supposed to get the food."

"Oh, come on. I'm volunteering, don't be so picky. Just open the damn oven."

"Fine, fine." Jack opened the oven and stepped back as Ben pulled the pizza out and set it on the stove. He remembered to get the pizza cutter, and within a few minutes they had split up the first slices. They each got a fresh drink – Ben a second beer, and after a pointed look by his roommate, Jack's first beer – and returned to the living room with the stack of movies.

Jack settled into the easy chair, propping his feet on the coffee table, and Ben took the couch. The spot reminded Jack of that moment when Ben had woken from his dream, and a nagging curiosity tugged at his mind. Ben got up again with one of the movies, and Jack spoke up as he was about to put it into the VCR.

"Just so it's out of the way."

"Yeah?"

"That dream you had about me."

"Oh, for crying out loud, Jack..."

"What was I doing? I mean, what were we doing?"

"I thought you said you were okay with this."

"I am, I am. I'm just curious. And I wanted to get it off my mind now."

"Fine, fine..." Ben loaded the VCR and returned to his seat with the remote. He turned it over in his hands. A sullen look clouded his face, and his voice was flat and somewhere between embarrassed and resentful. "We were on the couch, making out, I guess." He crossed his arms tightly. "I think you started it, sitting close to me and hugging me. And you kissed me. I... by the time I woke up you were –" He hesitated, his breath sounding heavy and uncertain. "You were on top of me, we were still clothed and all, but you were kissing me and – oh god, I can't talk about this. But you get the idea."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know it would be painful. I was just curious."

"It's not painful, it's just embarrassing. And weird."

"It's all right. I mean, it's strange to think about, but I don’t think less of you because of it or anything."

"Good. Thanks. I just – it's weird talking about this to you, in person. And I, you know. Not that much happened in that dream, I guess, considering, but it still felt like one of the sexiest dreams I've ever had. I don't – I don't know why, maybe just because it's a new feeling for me. But thinking about it gets me all worked up. I'm sorry."

"You mean worked up, like... 'excuse me while I consult the collected works of Mr. Hefner' worked up?"

"Yeah." Ben swallowed. "Nothing personal."

"I... okay. Sorry."

"It's not your fault, it's me. I'm – I guess I'm kind of pent up, and the thought of doing that kind of thing with anyone is looking pretty good right now. Not you, I mean. Uh, no offense, but you know." Ben took a deep breath and stretched his back, fidgeting a bit.

"Far be it for me to question the mighty Bernina libido. It's just... heh. Thoughts of a carnal nature involving me, in someone else's head. This may be a universal first."

"Sure as hell is for me. But I wouldn't be so sure about the universal part."

"What?"

"I'm not going to say for sure, because I don't know. But I'm just saying. You never know what people are thinking."

"What are you talking about? This has happened before?"

"Pssh. Not me, Sherlock. Somebody else."

"Who... Jane? You think she might be interested in me? Don't joke about that, Ben."

"I'm not. I said, I'm not sure. But I wouldn't rule it out."

"No." Jack leaned back, shaking his head. "I don't think so. If anyone she's got a thing for you. You're the artistic guy. And better looking than me."

"Ehh, you don't know that. I mean, I can't say for sure. But you guys have a lot more in common than she and I do." Ben picked up his plate again and took a bite of pizza. "Seriously, Jack, you overlook a lot of things you probably shouldn't. You have to keep your options open."

"Not as open as you are," Jack said dryly.

Ben cheerfully made a rude gesture. "Ready to start the movie already? Or do you have more probing questions?"

"Hey, you didn't mention the probing."

"And again I say to thee, bite me. Are you ready or not?"

"Yeah." Jack got up to turn the lights off and settled back in as the movie started. For a while they said little, absorbed in the story, only stopping to retrieve more food or drink from the kitchen. Ben brought out the chips on his second trip, and for a while they split those; Jack thought of sitting on the couch to stay within reach of the dip, but a residual strange feeling remained from Ben's agitated recollection of his dream. He sat on the floor instead, as Jane had done when she had first visited – it seemed so long ago now.

Ben went through his second beer by the time the movie was half over, and got a third; Jack was still sipping at his first. When he returned from the kitchen Ben lay on the couch with his head propped up in one hand. Jack moved back to the easy chair, a little uneasy about the way Ben's position reminded him of the dream. After a few minutes it passed out of his mind, and he became absorbed in the movie again. It was nice, despite the strange beginnings the night had had; it was the same as it had always been, it seemed, in the ways that actually mattered. The thought still bothered him, on some level he couldn't quite define. Maybe it was the way that Ben's description overlapped in his mind with what he had imagined after Ben's first night playing at the coffee shop – when he thought Ben and Jane had been having a dalliance involving strawberry yogurt. Well, that took care of two combinations, he thought wryly; now all we need is... no, best not to think about that.

His mind wandered a bit; he was getting drowsy, curled up in the comfortable chair in the dark, sated with junk food. The couch was cursed. That had to be it. It had become the bad mojo couch, couch of dark dealings and rampant passion. Eater of souls, looser of morals. Though, one could argue, he thought, that it wasn't so bad after all... his worries about Jane and Ben had been unfounded, and this... this wasn't all bad either. Strange, yes, puzzling, but in a way he was intrigued by it. It was an alien thought that someone might see him that way, as a sexual being, and although he regretted that this "someone" was his best friend, it still intrigued him. If Ben's subconscious could, maybe someone else could as well...

Could she think of him like that? And more importantly, did he want her to?

In some part of his mind, he did. Some part of his mind, and several parts of his body, took great pleasure in the thought of her fantasizing about him. But something else always won out after a minute, reminded him how things could be ruined, and how well things were going now. There were other girls out there. ...somewhere.

Jack caught himself dozing off and shook his head, trying to concentrate on the movie. He looked up and saw that Ben had nodded off as well, his head pillowed on his bent arm. Again... Jack sighed and unfolded himself stiffly. He crept a little closer to the couch.

The thought passed his mind. Of course it did. His mind was sadistic like that. But this was real; just a regular movie night when both of them were too worn out from the day to bother staying awake.

"Ben. Hey."

"Mmrr." Ben opened his eyes. "Ugh... fell asleep again." He squinted at the television for a minute. "Not for long, though? It's not over yet."

"I don't think it was very long. I almost dozed off myself, so I'm not sure."

"Doesn't say much for this movie, does it." Ben sat up, stretching his arms over his head. "More Coke? Different movie? Call it a night?"

"I think I'm gonna go to bed."

"Yeah... yeah, me too. I'm pretty tired. But in a good way."

"Mm. I'll put the pizza away, we can have the rest for breakfast. You're off tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah. From Death Star, anyway."

"Okay. Maybe we can watch one of the other ones in the morning."

"Sounds good." Ben got up and gathered the empty cans. Jack followed him to the kitchen and started to tidy up.

"Hey." Jack turned. "Thanks, by the way. For setting this up, and, you know, making me get to the point and everything. Sorry I ended up being such a drag."

"No, I don't care. The important thing was to get to the bottom of whatever was making you miserable this week. And that we did, I guess. Right? Do you feel any better?"

"Oh, you have no idea. I feel ecstatic compared to this past week. I mean, yeah, I still have a lot to think about; it's not over. But you have no idea how much of a help it was to talk to you about it. Thank you. Really."

"You're welcome. You feel better, that's all that matters."

Ben smiled a little. "Couldn't hope for better than you," he said quietly, a little indistinctly. Jack paused, having turned halfway toward the counter. Probably a little drunk, or a combination of drunk and tired.

"Better than a girlfriend?" Jack said wryly.

"Yeah. Definitely."

Don't hug me again, he thought. It would make things way too complicated. "Good night, Ben."

"Mm. Night." Rubbing his eyes, Ben shuffled off toward his room. Jack finished putting the leftover pizza away, washed his hands, and waited his turn to brush his teeth, leaning against the wall.

All things considered... it had gone okay. So many things to think about... tomorrow, he thought. I'll figure it out tomorrow.

I'm not artistic, he'd joked once, but I can do a pretty mean sand art.

The thing about sand art is, it's built one layer on the other, and you're never entirely sure how it will turn out until it's done. Until then it's just one layer on the next, one color melding with the ones around it, slowly building up the combination.

And once it's done, the greatest art of all is resisting the temptation to shake it up.

Ch. 9: Critics Accuse New Movie Of Glorifying Sex

[Skipped: this entire very short chapter was thrown together to satisfy a challenge out of the Dare Thread, and wasn't all that funny anyway.]

h. 10: Manic Depressive Friend A Blast While Manic

[Skipped: evidently I was having an off day, because THIS part was thrown together to satisfy another challenge. Jack and Jane play the game a bit more. Jack is a bit surly after the previous night's conversation, Jane overreacts to his secrecy, and Jack overreacts to her overreacting. They both sign off, and while Jane heads over to get the story straight from Ben, Jack broods about her "stereotypical girl behavior."]

Jack got up and turned the radio off. He could worry about that later... His annoyance cooled a bit, he sat back down at his computer and found himself visiting Jane's page again. Part of him was darkly curious if he'd missed some sort of sign about her impending craziness, and part of him nostalgically wanted to see some sign of the girl he thought he knew. The newest story – she seemed to crank them out at an absolutely frightening pace – was one he hadn't seen yet.

A/N: By the way, I just finished "The World Outside" this past week – it's kind of SR-ish, not too bad for having been done so fast. It's recommended. And on to the story!

"Veronica Quill and the East Hall Ghost" – part 3
by Lady Nightshade

Devin looked around at the shocked faces of the other final year students. "And?" one of them asked.

"And that's all," he concluded uncomfortably. He straightened his robes a little in the front. "That's all I know." He took his seat again in the little circle of students as Veronica stood.

"Thank you, Devin," she nodded toward the other student, who adjusted his glasses and nodded shortly. "I think we all realize that we are dealing with something very powerful here, but that we are getting ever closer to the truth. Once we find out what the truth is, there may be problems. Something may not want to be found out. But I think among all of us, we can pull together. Are we all together?"

"Yes," said Devin immediately. Veronica smiled at him. Always the steadfast friend, was Devin Destranger.

One by one the other three voiced their assent, with varying degrees of uncertainty, but all five, in the end, were dedicated to finding out the truth.

"All right then," said Veronica. "There's not much else we can do tonight, so let's sleep on it, and meet tomorrow after class in the north tower."

The students gathered up their things and left, their robes whispering against the flagstones. The last one to leave was Devin, and before he could leave Veronica caught the edge of his sleeve.

He turned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to thank you, Devin."

He shrugged. "Think nothing of it. What else can we do but work together?"

She smiled, her green eyes shadowed in the dim room. "Thank you."

Devin simply nodded, a little hint of a smile crossing his face. Veronica thought of giving him a quick hug in thanks, but what if a professor happened to pass by –

"Destranger! Quill!" a voice rang out in beautifully modulated tones.

"Professor Farfaralle," said Devin courteously, as he ducked out of the room and down the hall. The crimson-robed professor swept down the hallway, unperturbed, toward the remaining student, who was starting to blush a bit. "Quill! I trust you've done the reading – from my latest book –" he added, as if in punctuation, "for tomorrow's class?"

"Yes, sir. Actually," she looked at the ground and bit her lip, "I'm two chapters ahead."

"Excellent. Such great character in the students of today, no matter what they might say. Well then, Quill, should you ever need some supplementary reading, I have an entire collection of my works that could provide no end of edification. I must be on my way," he added, "to some pressing business." And with that he swept on down the hall, the orange tassels on his robe dusting the flagstones as he went.

Settling her books in her arms, Veronica set off toward the dormitory. Devin appeared from a side door as she passed. "Going back to the dorms?"

"Yes. I thought you went on ahead."

"A little evasive manuvering to duck Farfaralle, is all. Which I see you didn't follow." He smirked a little.

Veronica scoffed, unseriously. "I don't see what your problem is with him, anyway."

Devin's voice was lofty, but she could tell that he too meant no sting with the words. "Apart from being a stuffed pheasant masquerading as a peacock? None whatsoever."

"Hmph! I happen to think he's very worldly and sophisticated, thank you very much."

"If by that you mean he's a pretty face with a theatrical voice designed to make girls swoon, then yes, I agree."

Veronica nudged him with her shoulder. "You're awful. So when the boys all melt into puddles when Finia Belle Ostralang passes, that's a deep and emotional connection?"

"Of course. Though should you ever catch me doing so, I was never there."

"Ah, so that's your game."

"Yes, and I'll stand by it."

Veronica snickered.

There was a knock on the door. Jack hid the story, turning around in his chair. "Yeah?"

Ben opened the door. The towel was still hung around his shoulders, but his hair was drying in a spiky mess. He looked relieved and pensive. "So what's up?" Jack asked. "How did it go?"

"Mm..." Ben made an equivocal gesture. "So-so. She was fine with this whole thing. Which was good. I mean, I didn't expect her to freak out about it in the first place, so. Considering she's squealed over how cute some of the gay couples are that come into the coffee shop, you know."

"So you're lucky she didn't ask for a free show."

"Yeah, pretty much. Anyway, she was more upset about what happened with you. What happened with you, exactly?"

"I just told her I wasn't going to tell her what was up with you, because it wasn't my business to tell her. I just told her to talk to you."

"And she had a fit."

"Yeah, basically."

"Well, she's really upset about that. About having a fit, not about what you said. She was all worried that you wouldn't want to talk to her again and on and on."

"Yeah, well, acting like a psycho bitch queen kinda does that to you."

"Come on, Jack." Ben's expression turned critical, and impatient. "She had a bad moment, it happens. You've thrown fits worse than that before, so don't get all high and mighty on her."

"I've never gone all PMSey on someone who's just being reasonable."

"Oh, really. You don't listen to yourself very often, then. Listen, Jack, whatever. I suggest you both snap the hell out of it, because I won't have you hissing and scratching like cats every time I'm around both of you. I already talked to Jane about it, and she's sorry. She's more than sorry, actually. Now you do the same before I have to knock some sense into you."

"Hm." Jack looked away. Ben could be too diplomatic sometimes. There was no arguing with him with this. "If she's going to stop the psychotic freakouts, then I'll be fine with that. But I'm not sticking around somebody who's going to act like a damn girl like that."

"She is a girl, you moron."

"Yeah, but she was never girly before."

Ben rubbed his forehead. "Do I have to draw you a diagram? She had a bad day. So have you. You're doing it right now, as a matter of fact. So unless you want to get both me and her convinced that you're just a misanthropic old coot before your time, I suggest you stop the misogynist bit right now and be reasonable."

"Ugh. Whatever. Just... whatever. I'm going to take a walk." Jack got up and brushed past him on his way out the door.

Ben whacked him with the towel as he passed. "Lighten up, goddammit! I'm not talking every one of my friends out of bitch fits in the same day."

"You wouldn't have to if your friends weren't such bitches."

"Glass houses, Jack."

Jack got his shoes and coat and left the apartment. He took the elevator to the ground floor, looking resolutely ahead so as not to make eye contact. Goth Guy from Six didn't seem to mind, or even notice. Once on the street Jack started walking, hands in his pockets, sucking in the cold air to clear his head.

A cold breeze blew along the street, making the nylon flags with cheerful moons and pumpkins wave slowly and with a strange kind of dignity, and rustling the dried cornstalks that the more ambitious home decorators had leaned against their doorjambs. Every store window had some kind of bright ode to the season, laughing pumpkins, cherubic witches, fuzzy bats - the flaming skulls of seasons past had apparently given way to an exceedingly cute form of morbidity.

He turned onto the long side of the next block, where dry leaves scudded over the mostly empty expanse of beige concrete. Only a few people were out in this weather in the middle of a Saturday afternoon, mostly waiting for buses at the corner, eyeing with envy those lucky enough to get a seat inside the grimy bus shelter.

But as Jack looked up along the street, halfway down the block another figure walked with hands in pockets and gaze to the ground.

That figured, of course. Jack sighed, stopped where he was and waited. An uneasy nervousness gathered in his stomach and his knees; he wanted to turn and walk the other way before she saw him. He had momentary visions of her walking up to him and punching him that were strangely satisfying. But he waited. He had to take this like an adult, and running away wouldn't help.

Several yards away she glanced up, and stopped abruptly. Jack looked at the ground before he could see her expression. And waited. Whatever came would come. This was not under his control.

After a moment she slowly started walking again and drew closer to him. He still couldn't bring himself to look at her face. She stopped, and he saw her hands together in front of her, toying with the ends of her sleeves. And he could not look up yet.

"Hi."

A shiver of something - recognition, or fear - slithered through his body as the pieces crashed together. This was not the girl he'd fought with. It was not. This was the girl who wrote bad stories about torrid love affairs and loved superhero shows. This was the girl who had gone costume shopping with him and tickled him accidentally. This was the girl who had scared him so badly with a silly burlesque involving strawberry yogurt. This was the girl who had rubbed his shoulder in the dark, in the cold wind, and told him things would be all right. This was not who he had fought with. It couldn't be.

He swallowed. "Hey."

"I came out for a walk to clear my head, kind of, but you know what's weird? I kept hoping I'd run into you. I mean, it's kind of silly - what are the chances, right? - but I just... I don't know, I felt bad knowing you probably hate me. And I kept thinking, wouldn't it be nice if you just happened to come by and I could say I'm sorry and it would be all right? Well..." She pulled her sleeves over her hands as if she were cold. He had a fleeting impulse to take her hands and warm them, but the same idea sent a jolt of something less altruistic through him at the same time. She went on, nervously, filling time. "I mean, maybe it won't be all right. Maybe you'll still hate me. But I can try." She laughed tonelessly, as if she didn't quite buy it herself. Her voice dropped so that he could barely hear it, even standing next to her. "Actually I... I kind of wish I could run into you a lot of times. It's stupid to be saying this now, but... I don't know. I guess thinking I might never talk to you again made me realize some things."

Not only was this not the girl he had fought with, this could not be happening now. It couldn't.

It was. The rest of inertia turned to the frozen immobility of fear. He had to move. But there was nothing he could do and no way to escape. He had to say something, but no words would come. This was real, this was now, and he knew he wanted to take her hands, to warm them in his own, he wanted to do that and to make her blush and to tell her he was sorry. For what? For hating her. For not believing. For being cruel because he couldn't believe she had been sincerely hurt.

"I'm sorry," he said, still not looking up.

"No, I was an idiot."

"You were kind of a brat, yeah. But I wouldn't forgive you for it, and I'm sorry for that. I should have been a grownup about it and let it go. Ben was right, I was wrong. I'm sorry." He didn't say the rest, that lay formless as a fog over it: I did what I believed I should, and I don't regret that, but what came after was wrong. You were hurt and I couldn't take it. I was probably supposed to make you feel better and I made you feel worse. I failed you. You failed me first, but I could have made it better and I didn't.

The soft impact of her body hitting his chest shocked him from his musing. Her arms were around him, hugging him tight in a near stranglehold. "Thank you, Jack."

Something in him shivered.

"We're okay now, right?"

No. No, we're not. Right is not the word for it. Wrong in so many ways, despite - because of - the fact that it was what he really wanted anyway. So wrong. He wanted to hug her back just as tightly. But he shouldn't, he couldn't trust what he would do next. He could ruin everything. But what were the chances that this would happen again? Fuck it, Jack, just go ahead. He raised his arms and hugged her, and for a moment doubt blinded him - standing in the middle of the sidewalk, what if someone saw them, what if he looked stupid, what if this went wrong - but the relief washed over him and the doubts sank away. It felt good, so very, very good, and what he'd feared didn't happen; he didn't do anything embarrassing, he didn't say something he would regret. He couldn't say anything, as a matter of fact, for a little while.

"Yeah, we're okay."

In the end she would return to this, even if she went off on flights of petulance again. This was who Jane was, and for the sake of that - for the sake of this warm feeling that filled him right now - he would put up with the occasional tantrum. It was worth the price.

He didn't want her to talk again, though. Something in what she'd said before bothered him, and he didn't want to know any more. "It's cold out here," he said, finally pulling away. "Do you want to come over for a while?"

"Mm... okay, I guess. I was just going to go to the library and read for a while before work, actually."

"It's as quiet as the library, and we have soda. Do they? I don't think so. Library zero, Jack and Ben's place 1."

Jane laughed. "You're so nice when you want to be." Having nothing to say to that, Jack stepped back and turned back toward the apartment. Jane followed. "Which is one reason why I think I was so upset," she went on, as Jack chanted in his head for her to be quiet. "You're always so nice that it was so much worse coming from you than from some random jerk. I can't just write you off and say I don't care what you think. So it's worse." She sighed. "But that's over, right? Back to happy Jane and sweet Jack."

Oh god, don't do this to me, he thought. This isn't fair. This is not fair at all. And you don't even realize you're doing it. And what's wrong with me? A cute albeit mildly annoying girl is giving me compliments and I can't say anything? I didn't just think that. But it's true. All right, it's true.

So he liked the way her eyes looked when she smiled, so his pulse ran faster when she was close to him, so he kept having wildly wrong thoughts about her when he was half-asleep at night. The question still remained: would it ruin everything to let her know? Or would it start well only to have him ruin everything with his ineptitude?

It was good to have her as a friend. But his mind kept pushing things one step further, teasing him with what might lie one comment, one movement away. If he reached out for her hand now, what would she do? He kept thinking about trying to kiss her as she sat on his couch, reading. Would that ruin everything? Or would she understand? He could take it if she merely wasn't interested. Then things would go more or less back to normal, with only an embarrassing memory to try to forget. But if she hated him for it, or worse if she liked him and he managed to mess it up anyway...

Was this worth the price? Could he even make that decision without knowing what the price might be?

They were almost there. Ben would probably still be home, for a little while longer, at least. He almost wished he could talk to Ben about it. What would he say? He would say to go ahead. Of course. He would say, Jack, you worry way the hell too much. She won't kill you. Take it easy, ask her to do something that's just the two of you, and chill.

Hm. Portable Ben. Useful.

The two of them walked side by side back toward Jack and Ben's building, and passed a construction site on their right. Jane stopped to look for a moment, and Jack slowed and stopped to wait for her.

There was a large banner across one of the trailers on the site. "I've heard of this," Jane mused out loud. "It's a big project. They get volunteers together, and they intend to build fifty thousand houses across the country this year. All for charity. All those people will have a place of their own that they wouldn't have had otherwise." She looked over the people working, lost in thought. "Thinking about it, I kind of wish I'd done something more noble with my time, you know? But I guess... it's kind of inspiring. All those people working for their common goal can make such amazing things happen." She put her hands back in her pockets and turned back to the sidewalk. "Who knows. Maybe someday I'll do something like that."

Jack nodded, not knowing what else to say, and after a moment they walked on. In a few more minutes they were back at Jack's building.

Ch. 11: FBI Wiretap Uncovers Massive Seventh-Grade 'Crush Ring'

They entered the building, and for a minute Jack thought he might say something on the elevator; something about the close walls and the whir of machinery was strangely comforting. Private. But the guy from upstairs was in the lobby, and he wouldn't be getting off the elevator until after they left, so Jack spent the ride up in silence. Jane just smiled, earning a mild facial tic from GGS.

When they went into the apartment, Ben was indeed still home. He walked into the living room while pulling on his coffee shop uniform shirt. "Hey, feeling any -" He stopped as the shirt cleared his view and he saw Jane, who gave him a little wave. "Hey. So... I guess you guys are cool now."

"Yep," Jane answered. "Are you working tonight?"

"Yeah, I start at four. You?"

"Seven. I'm closing."

"You're going to hang out here until then?"

Jane looked at Jack. "I guess so. I was kind of on my way to work when I ran into Jack, so I can go straight there after this."

"Okay, cool. There's some stir-fry in the fridge. There should be enough for both of you, probably. If not, you know what to do."

Jane put on a shifty look. "Oh yeah, there's enough on him to last a week."

"I'm going to ignore the connotations my so-called brain saw fit to put onto that statement and just be on my way." Ben slipped on his shoes and picked up his coat as he headed for the door; Jane passed him and put her backpack down on the couch.

"Thanks, Ben," Jack said as his roommate passed.

Ben paused, putting a hand out on Jack's arm. "You're not okay, are you. You look like a rabbit in a wolf's den."

"Yeah. I mean no. Yes, I'm not really okay. But it's not major. It can wait."

"All right. Don't have any existential crises until I get back."

"Aye-aye, captain."

"There's my boy." Ben let go of his arm and turned toward the door. "See you later, Jane."

"See you!"

And Ben was gone once again. Jack turned back to the living room; Jane had taken a seat on the couch, legs crossed, one foot bouncing a little in the air. "Um. Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, thanks. Come on, sit with me." She waved him over, and having no better courses of action, he went and sat at the other end of the couch. After an uncomfortable moment of not knowing what else to do, he excused himself to his room to get something to read and returned with a programming book he'd left half finished. By then Jane had unearthed her intended reading material, several small magazine-type publications that appeared to be comic books. Jack looked over the back of the couch for a moment – they were, actually. Japanese comics. Jane hugged the one she was holding to her chest. "Not a word!"

"No, no problem. Didn't know you were that hardcore, actually."

"Heh. I wouldn't say that, you can get these at bookstores nowadays. They're translated and everything. The hardcore people would laugh at me."

"Hm." Jack rounded the couch and sat at the other end again, opened his book, and failed to concentrate. He read the words, but they slid uselessly off the inside of his mind. He shook his head and tried again, with no more success. He didn't want to study right now, although escaping into another frame of mind might be a relief. He wanted to... well, what he wanted to do was better left alone. This couch had taken on some unhealthy connotations in his mind, at least where women were concerned. And some part of him wanted to be reassured, again, that things were really all right.

His mind drifted, leaving the book neglected on his lap. Of course, if that reassurance took a particular form, so much the better – stop that. He glanced over at Jane's pile of comics and realized something about the covers. "Oh. Oh, that stuff."

She laughed. "Oh, that stuff? Geez. Don't knock it till you've tried it, buddy." She picked one out of the stack and held it out to him.

"Oh, I'm not really-" She did not relent, waving it slowly within his reach. "Fine, fine... expanding one's horizons is not a bad thing, right?"

"Exactly. Don't worry, that's the first volume; nothing really scandalous happens."

"Eesh..." He put down the programming book and leafed into the proffered comic, nudging off his shoes and propping his feet on the coffee table as he continued to read. It was pretty standard dramatic fare at first, at least standard so far as these things went; the lead, or the apparent lead so far, was a fallen angel cursed to live on earth until a thousand souls were saved, or somesuch. Dramatic speeches trailing off into ellipses seemed to be the order of the day, usually while staring into the darkness. The first book trailed after the lead in his apparently miserable human life, where he went around grudgingly helping people and seeming thoroughly depressed about the prospect. He had a kind of familiar or helper, a kind of trickster demon who popped in and out here and there and helped to at least lighten the mood a little once in a while. How a demon wound up as the familiar of an angel trying to get back to heaven, he thought, was one of those things that you would think they would want to explain... maybe they got into it later.

Near the end of the book the fallen angel saved his hundredth soul, and while mulling this over he was visited by an honest to goodness non-fallen angel, who was coming around to check on his progress – sent by some heavenly bureaucracy, by the looks of it. The angel and the former angel didn't know each other, but some long and rather miserable looks weighted with drama were exchanged, and the fallen angel ended the book staring up where the angel had vanished and wondering if he would return.

Not so bad, really... he could see where it was headed, going by the cover illustrations in particular, but the art was quite attractive and the story wasn't so bad. It was a lighter read than programming, at least. He tossed the comic onto the pile and shuffled through the rest to find the second one.

"So, not so bad?" Jane asked, noticing his actions.

"No, not bad at all really. Morose, but other than that it's okay."

"Yeah... It's a little lighter once it gets going. Not much, but there's always the demon to perk things up."

"Yeah, I noticed that. You know, there's this and that show about the lizard man –"

"Night and Steel."

"Yeah. Aren't any of these about, like, normal humans who aren't demons or angels or shapeshifters or gods or ghosts or something?"

Jane laughed. "Yeah, there are a couple about rock stars."

"Oh, well then."

"Well yeah, but really that's just the genre. I mean, look at Magical Guardress Sakura, that's hardly run of the mill stuff. Tends toward the fantastic."

"Yeah, yeah. You have a point." Jack shrugged and started on the second book. As he read Jane moved the pile to the coffee table and shifted her position, sitting with one leg folded under her. Watching her from the corner of his eye, Jack thought again of her snuggling up against him – even if he was reading fantastically girly comics, that would be very nice indeed. Well... there was still time to bring it up if he had the courage.

In the second book the fallen angel got entangled in some dealings with humans and mused in several internal monologues about the angel he'd met. He asked his familiar to ask after the angel and who he was – again, how a demon had dealings with the bureaucracy of heaven was never explained, but that's how things went usually – as he went about beginning to untangle the shady goings-on of a supernatural crime syndicate. He had, of course, also saved a few souls by the time his demon familiar returned with somewhat less sardonic mirth than before. The angel had been warned away from returning, the demon reported, because he had been, in the eyes of the powers that be, far too eager to come back. This of course sent the fallen angel off on several more rounds of obsessing over it, and the book ended with a change of scenery to the angel doing nearly the same thing, looking down over the city from some kind of electrical tower and musing over the fallen angel's thoughts.

He could most definitely see where this was going.

It was quick reading, though, and Jack found the third volume anyway. There was more fighting against the syndicate, which seemed tied to some underworld dealings of the literal kind, and a protracted gun / martial arts fight throughout nearly half of the book, in which the fallen angel was grievously injured. He managed to drag himself out of the fight more or less victorious anyway, and made it back to his headquarters (which was actually pretty cool, being a kind of hideout at the top of a tall building, with atmospheric city views outside) before collapsing on his floor. While passed out from blood loss or concussion or some such dramatic injury he dreamed about the angel, naturally, and appeared in the dream as his old, pre-fallen self, with the usual gracefully rendered wings. The two exchanged some half-finished, trailing-off sentences laden with unspoken meaning, and the fallen angel woke to find that the angel had in fact appeared. His wounds were bound up, and apparently the angel had saved him from nearly dying at great risk to himself, since he had been ordered not to return. This of course stunned the fallen angel, and after a few breathless exchanges about how the former had risked exile to earth for his sake, they kissed before a fade to black.

Well. It was still very nicely drawn, if anything more so as the situation got stranger. The stylistic contrast between the two while in the mortal world was interesting. And really, the story was quite romantic, if a bit cliché. It was strangely reassuring that an apparently far-flung niche said to be populated by rabid hormone-crazed fangirls was actually based on something not that different from some old-fashioned Romeo and Juliet story... well, in this case perhaps Romeo and Mercutio, with Tybalt making snide comments on the side. Still. Definitely not as bad as its reputation.

"So three books in and they only kiss once? I thought this was supposed to be depraved."

"No, not this one. Night and Steel, maybe. More depraved, anyway. But Send Me an Angel is mostly romantic. It's pretty. I like it more than Night and Steel, actually."

"Yeah, it's not bad."

"Aha, see. Face the beast in its lair and it's not as bad as you think."

"Yeah, I guess so. The art is really nice."

"Oh, yeah. Preaching to the choir, there. Hey, what time is it?"

He looked up at the clock display on the VCR. "Ten after five. Oh hey, I'm sorry. Do you want some lunch? Dinner, now. Oh, hell, I'm sorry. I should have offered sooner."

"It's okay." She reached out, put her hand on his shoulder for a moment. It trailed down his arm as it fell away. He stood up abruptly, ignoring the fact that it was suddenly a little hard to breathe over the full-color stereophonic flashback to his old furtive fantasies of making out with her on that couch.

"I'll get some. I mean, do you want any. I'm getting some for me, but do you want any?" Stupid, stupid, stupid. Could you be just a little more obvious?

"Sure, that would be great. Thank you."

He escaped to the kitchen and found the lo mein and stir-fried vegetables Ben had left in the refrigerator, and busied himself with heating some up and getting plates and utensils. In the back of his mind he went over some things to say, some possible things to say, rather, but the preparation took his mind off the situation at least partly. He found himself starting to bite his nails once and stopped, clasping his hands behind his back to keep himself from doing it again. He didn't have to say anything, of course. But then it would still bother him. Of course, he could always just ask her opinion in general... It would probably be transparent, but he could at least get an idea of where her beliefs lay in cases like this. Maybe that would help...The microwave pinged, and he took out the plates and silverware to the living room. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Oh, thank you. Just water, thanks." Jane settled onto the floor, as she had that first night he'd met her, to eat from the coffee table. Jack returned to the kitchen and got ice water for both of them – he didn't need more caffeine right now.

"Sorry," he muttered as he sat on the couch with his own plate. "I wish I could have made something or something. But you know, Ben's cooking is good, so."

"Yeah, don't worry about it. You didn't have to do anything." She smiled at him, and he concentrated on his plate. They ate in silence for a while, more or less companionably, while Jack mused over how he could bring up this topic of moving friendship into something else. That was one way he could put it... or he could ask what she thought about whether friendship could last after people developed romantic feelings for one another – what was he thinking? Was that really...

It was, he thought. More or less. He was attracted to her and he wished he could be involved with her on different terms. Closer, more personal, more emotional and physical at the same time. That was romantic feeling, wasn't it? He guessed it was. Not like there was much in his experience to compare it to. But he had an idea of what he wanted now, and that was really all he could do about it now.

He spoke up before they were finished; he wanted to start before he was distracted with taking the plates away, and might back out of asking at all. "You know, I was wondering."

"Hm?"

"If you have two people who are friends, say, completely platonic, for a while, and they start – if one starts... you know, developing feelings for the other, do you think their friendship can survive it?"

"Hmm." She put down her fork and took a drink of water. "I guess it depends on the friendship. If it's strong I think it probably can. I mean, it depends on a lot of things. Their personalities, whether both people feel the same way, lots of things."

"So do you think there's anything wrong with it?"

"Wrong? No, of course not. A lot of great relationships start that way, so I've heard."

"Yeah, but if it goes wrong you risk losing the friendship."

"Mm, not if they can both get past it. I mean, if it ends really badly then you may have problems. But if you're friends to begin with, I think you could work it out and be cordial. You've made it that far, right? I don't think it's necessarily going to doom the friendship."

"Hm." Jack chewed thoughtfully and took a drink of water. He sat back for a moment, considering what she had said. It was encouraging, after all. Very practical. "Well, thank you for your opinion."

"Does this pertain to anyone I'd know, or are you just making conversation?"

"I, well." He looked straight ahead, avoiding her inquisitive face. "Would you freak out if I said I didn't want to talk about it right now?"

She looked away, shaking her head with a tired little laugh. "No, I wouldn't."

"Okay. I don't really want to talk about it right now."

"All right, Jack. I won't say any more about it."

"Thanks."

They finished their dinner in peace, and Jack collected the dishes and returned them to the kitchen afterward. As he cleaned up the thought came to his mind of going back there and curling up on the couch with her, and the warm longing that rose in him made him hang on to the edge of the counter until it subsided. This was bad. There was no avoiding this now, and it would bother him until he finally asked her and brought it all out in the open. Well, she wouldn't be here that much longer; she had to get to work. He had thought about asking her today, but it didn't seem likely. He needed more time to gather his courage, to think about what he could do after he asked. What to ask. Where to go. He had no idea what to do about any of this dating stuff. Maybe he could talk to Ben about that...

He could only kill so much time in the kitchen. After a few minutes Jack returned to the living room, where Jane was curled up at one end of the couch again, with her back against the armrest and her head resting against the back of the couch. She was just looking into space, seeming relaxed and content, and didn't notice him yet. In his mind he crawled onto the couch next to her, and she let him lie with his head on her stomach, with her hands gently rubbing his back - this wasn't fair. She had no idea what she was doing to him. What was happening to him, he amended. It wasn't her fault. Still, it was happening, he could no longer avoid it, and something had to be done before it made him sick with worrying.

He would have to talk to Ben, when he got home, and hear what he had to say. No existential crises till you get home. Roger that.

That still left him with a girl he couldn't admit being attracted to on his couch, and nothing he could say to her that wouldn't give him away.

Damned couch. He hadn't even been this horny when she'd been lying on his bed, for heaven's sake – oh, mistake thinking about that. Big mistake.

He quickly took a seat in the easy chair, pulling his knees up to his chest. Jane looked up and gave him a half smile. "Thanks for dinner. It was good."

"Well, Ben made it, so."

"Yeah, but thank you for serving it." She gazed off into the distance again, seeming to be lost in thought. "You're both so nice," she said absently. "It's kind of a shame..."

Something twisted between his stomach and his pulled-up knees at the tone of her voice, the way it reminded him of someone dropping off to sleep. Something in the back of his mind would tap into that later, no doubt. "What's a shame?"

She looked up. "Oh, nothing. Just, you know what they say. All the good men are married or gay."

"Mmph. I hate that saying. Besides, Ben's not gay. He made quite a point that he still likes girls."

"Heh, I know, I know. Just thinking out loud."

"Hm." He looked across the coffee table, as she lapsed back into thought. Wait. Wait wait. This could be bad. What if she were interested in Ben? This could be very bad. And she thought it was fine for friends to – this could be bad. Jack clasped his arms around his knees and resisted the very strong temptation to put his head down. Of course, it would figure. Ben was the one girls liked. More handsome, more witty, more at ease with people, he could make easy conversation and flirt and all those things Jack never knew how to do. They loved his sense of humor, his cooking, his taste in music; they loved that he would play the guitar for them, although they didn't know that he probably would do the same thing on a dull Saturday afternoon even if they weren't there. Girls always fell for Ben. It would figure that Jane would fall in line.

For a moment the thought nearly made him sick. Was Ben interested in her as well? He hadn't really said anything to that effect. If he did, then there was some small consolation in knowing that they would both be happy. If not, then what? Would it be wrong for Jack to make his move then? If she agreed to go out with him then, would he be nothing but a consolation prize? He didn't want that. Oh, this was bad.

"Jack?" Her voice was so sweet when she was calm. "Are you all right?"

"Mm. I'm okay." He shook himself out of his reverie, made himself unclench and sit more normally. "Just have some things on my mind, that's all. Sorry."

"That's okay. I bet you and Ben can have another talk and figure it all out, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I plan to."

"That's good." Her smile seemed strangely sad. "Well, I guess I should get going pretty soon. Mind if I use your bathroom?"

"No, of course not. Don't even have to ask."

"Well, you know." She blushed a little and left the room with her backpack. Jack stretched his now stiff legs and leaned back in his seat with his feet on the coffee table. This was getting far too weird. He'd have to figure it all out with Ben and decide what to do about it all. Or maybe they should wait until after the Halloween party; things could get weird if two of them were at odds and they still decided to go to the same place. Of course, he hoped nobody would fight. Above all he wished for that. Still, even if Ben and Jane got together and he had to see them together... also bad.

Had to talk with Ben. It would all get sorted out eventually. Stop worrying.

After a few minutes Jane returned and started to pack up her comics. "Do you want to borrow some of these?"

"Nah, no thanks. I might catch up sometime if you happen to have them, but you don't have to do that."

"Okay then." She finished packing them up. Feeling mixed regret and relief, he realized he should probably offer to walk with her to work.

"It's getting late. I'll go with you," he said without thinking. "Um, would you mind?"

Halfway through putting on her jacket, she smiled. "Heh. I'm a big girl, Jack, I go every day by myself." She settled the coat on her shoulders and picked up her backpack.

"Yeah, but..." He felt himself blushing. This wasn't working. He wished he could take it back, but he still felt compelled to do something. "You don't have to this time."

"Oh..." He looked up at the unexpected exclamation; she was looking at him as if he were a basket of kittens. "You're too sweet, Jack. Really. Oh, how could I resist that. Let's go, then."

"Um, all right." Not entirely sure of what had happened, he put his shoes back on and got his coat from its hook near the door.

"Thank you," she said as he unlocked the door. She sounded very heartfelt, and her hand was on his arm again. He was getting a creeping feeling that something rather bizarre was going on, as if they were speaking in a coded language that he didn't understand.

"Uh, you're welcome." Feeling too jittery to stand still in the elevator, he headed for the stairs instead. Jane didn't seem to mind. They headed down the square spiral to the ground floor, in the fluorescent lights that seemed to cast a dead tone over everything that passed through them. Jack kept his eyes to the stairs and kept moving forward; he could hear that Jane was close behind him, but he only wanted to get out into the open air. And then to the coffee shop. And then home.

They finally escaped to the street, and Jane fell into place next to him. She seemed strangely calm and, at the same time, unusually willing to violate hs personal space. It wasn't the worst thing that could happen, but it was vaguely off-putting. Troubling. Jack decided to try to ignore it.

"So next week is the party, huh? Are you ready for it?"

"Yeah, I guess so. There's nothing else I have to do to get ready, really."

"Mm. I wonder if Ben's done with his costume yet. Or if he's gotten it. I never did hear what he was going to do."

"I think he's making it. I've seen him with some craft kinda stuff."

"Hm, ambitious."

"I don't think it's too complicated. Just some paper and paint and stuff. Knowing Ben, it's probably creative, though."

"Yeah, I'll bet." She smiled, looking up at the buildings around them. "It's so great, you know? You guys staying friends for such a long time. I'm still amazed by that."

"Um. Thanks, I guess."

"It makes such a nice story," she added, as if thinking out loud. "I'm glad I got to know you guys. Really. I hope I can keep in touch as long as I can."

Jack frowned slightly. "Are you thinking of moving?"

"What? Oh, no, it's just that you know how things happen. I'm just saying, even if things change I hope I can keep in touch with you."

"I... guess so. Me too?" Frankly, he had no idea what she was talking about. He hoped Ben drank a lot of coffee during his shift, because they would have to have one long talk at this rate. Or maybe she was just going off on tangents that nobody else really understood, and it didn't mean anything, ultimately. Regardless, he would have to talk to Ben about asking her out – assuming she was in a non-rambling mood at the time. This was just... baffling.

They were passing by the store next to the coffee shop when he felt something cool brush his hand, and then a squeeze; he nearly tripped in surprise, and stopped walking, turning toward her. Jane let go of his hand, but he grabbed hers again and held it between both of his own before he even knew what he was doing. She slipped her other hand between his, and he pressed her hands between his, warming them. He was beginning to realize what an intensely dumb move it was, but he had acted without thinking; her hands were cold, and he had acted on sheer impulse. Jack could feel a blush rising in his cheeks, and kept his head down, not looking at her face. In a few more seconds her hands were warm, and he dropped them, turning away with a sudden "See you later."

"See you," she called after him as he walked away. He did not look back, and by the time he got back to his apartment he wanted nothing more than to pull the covers over his head and forget the last ten minutes had ever happened. He left a scribbled note to Ben on the refrigerator – Wake me up when you get home – and tried to sleep despite the thoughts that chased each other in circles around his head.

Ch. 12: 79 Percent Of Americans Missing The Point Entirely

"Jack."

"Mmn."

"Jack." A heavy weight landed somewhere near his knees. "Hey. You said I should wake you up."

"Mm. Yeah..." Jack mumbled groggily, and turned over. "Right. I'm up." He sat up, yawning, to find that Ben had turned the light on – had he even turned it off to begin with? – and was sitting near the end of his bed with a bag of pretzels. "Geez, watch the crumbs, will you?"

"I am. Cranky, aren't we."

"Yeah, sorry. Ugh." He rubbed his eyes, phasing back into the present. Something nagged the back of his mind, an unfinished dream, maybe, or maybe just the unfinished worry of the day. He tried to remember how everything had gone, what had been said, what had bothered him, and slowly the fuzzy confusion of sleep lifted from his mind. He shook his head. "Right. Uh, reconvene in the living room?"

"Aw, pajama parties aren't your style anymore?"

"Crumbs. Pretzel crumbs."

"All right, all right." Ben stood up and headed for the door. Jack got to his feet, stretching, and followed him into the living room, where Ben sprawled over the easy chair.

"So what's up? Jane was saying at work that you would probably want to talk to me, and lo and behold, a note. Is something wrong?"

"No, well, that depends on how you look at it." Jack stretched out on the couch with his hands behind his head and sighed. "What would you say if I said I wanted to ask Jane out on a date?"

Ben munched on another handful of pretzels for a moment. "Well, I suppose if you said that, then I would have to say you're a big boy and you can ask out whoever you damn well please. Are you saying that, or just considering saying that?"

"Come on, Ben, I'm serious. This is bothering me. You know, you hear how it screws up people's friendships all the time."

"Not always. I knew Jess for a while before we started dating; that went okay. 'Course, you know, I never see her nowadays, but if I ran into her sometime it would probably be nice – Anyway, what are you worried about? Have you said anything to her yet?"

"Not really. I mean, I kind of asked about the subject, but I didn't really... ask her. Directly. You know?"

"Oh, no, not one of those 'I have a friend who' stories."

"No no, just asking about friends who do that kind of thing. Not naming names."

"Huh." For a few moments the only sound was the crunch of Ben's pretzels. Jack stared broodingly at the ceiling, wondering if this had all been a mistake and cursing whatever mechanism of the subconscious had planted the idea in his head of even being attracted to her in the first place. There was a sharp crinkling noise as Ben clutched the pretzel bag shut. "Holy fuck, so that's what she was going on about!" He started to laugh, a kind of stifled, hysterical sound. Jack sat up, turning to stare at him.

"What the hell is your problem? What are you talking about?" Ben shook his head, holding up one finger for him to wait. Jack grabbed a pillow from the couch and threw it at him. "What are you laughing at?"

Finally Ben slowed down enough to talk. "I think –" he broke off snickering again, and Jack grabbed another pillow. "Okay, okay, sorry. I think – whew – I think Jane thinks you were going to ask me out."

"What?"

"Yeah, she didn't say anything too specific, just kept hinting that you might have something big to tell me. But you know, I bet that's what she was thinking."

"Holy hell." Jack slowly put his feet back on the floor, staring dazedly at the coffee table. "Holy hell, I think you're right. Why would she think that? Not just because of those comics, could it... No, that can't be all."

"Maybe just because you asked her about asking a friend out, but didn't ask her out, then a process of elimination... you don't exactly have too many other friends. No offense, but you know. Comics?"

"Yeah, when she was over she was reading some comics she'd brought, and I read a few of them. I mean, yeah, it was a romance story about guys, but the art was good and the story wasn't bad either."

"A likely story."

"Shut up, you!"

"I'm kidding, Jack. You know I wouldn't do that. So they weren't, like, porn, were they?"

"No, but if you ask I'm sure she could find you some."

"You're a good friend. So anyway, I'd bet a few too many connections just got made in her mind. I don't think it was just that. I'd bet it's mostly the fact that you were talking about asking a friend out without making any kind of move on her."

Jack looked away, starting to blush a little. "I can't, I... I wouldn't know what to do even if I did have the nerve."

"All right, all right, I can probably help with that, but the point is it probably helped her draw this, uh, conclusion. Besides, if she's the sort of girl who reads those import comics, there might be a little wishful thinking going on there, too."

"What? Oh. Aagh. That's not cool."

"It's not cool, but it's feasible. It's part of the perverted human nature, my man. You wanna bet if you had two cute lesbian friends you wouldn't be hoping to see them hook up?"

"Ehhh. Maybe, but – hey, I'm not cute."

"Mm, I wouldn't protest if I were you." Ben opened the bag of pretzels again and ate a few. "I have a feeling she thinks you are. Just a hunch, mind you. But I think she's always kind of had a thing for me, although I think it's cooled off now that we know each other better. And now I think she's got it for you."

"Ugh. You knew that and you didn't do anything about it? You just left her hanging? What kind of bastard are you?"

"The kind of bastard who isn't interested by no fault of his own, and hoped it would cool off before I had to hurt a nice girl's feelings," Ben replied icily. "Don't get on my case with this, Jack. I haven't done a thing against her and I don't plan to. I just wasn't interested that way. It happens. And if it's between leading her on and making her think I like her when I don't and letting it fizzle out, I am always going to let it wear off before somebody gets hurt. You don't know how it is, so I suggest you butt the hell out."

Jack folded his arms across his chest. "Sorry."

"It's all right. Sorry for going off the handle. It's not easy, and it pisses me off to be accused of being a jerk when I do everything in my power to avoid it." He chewed another handful of pretzels in the silence. "Besides, it's over now. I don't get any of those vibes from her these days. Especially now; she's definitely one of those 'gay boys are cute' girls. Eegh. She's going to screw up my chances with other girls if she doesn't cool it. But I bet that'll wear off, too. Anyway." He held out the pretzel bag to Jack, who waved it off. Ben took another handful. "So the situation is: you want to ask her out. Spies in the field say she's probably interested. You don't seem to have any serious competition. Problem being?"

"Problem being, I'm a big loser who has no idea what to say."

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that. Well, here. The Halloween party's this weekend, so that's probably shot. A room full of drunken people in costumes with loud music is not a good place to try to light a spark. But you can ask after that, I bet. So what's something you'd like to do together? G-rated version, please."

Jack felt his cheeks warming, and he tried to keep his mind from spinning off in circles. This was easier than talking to her cold, at least. Ben was good at this, and Jack felt much more at ease around him. "I don't know. We pretty much already do everything I do. I don't, like, go out or anything."

"Yeah, true, but it doesn't have to be something major. Just somewhere you can be together and talk. Oh – or, or. You can always set up a nice dinner for her at home or something like that. Not a standard first date, but it's something you'd both like. Or go out for coffee – well, somewhere she doesn't work. Kind of hard to concentrate when you know everybody around you. But coffee is good, it's casual, not very expensive. Generally recommended for newbies. People always say movies, but in my opinion that doesn't give you much of a chance to talk."

"Coffee would be okay. I guess. I mean, I don't think it would be so great for my nerves, but in theory it's not a bad idea."

"Then get decaf. The point is, you can hang out and spend some time together more or less alone."

Jack nodded. "Okay."

"Sound good?"

"Yeah... yeah, it doesn't sound so bad when you say it as it sounds in my mind."

"That's the voice of experience, you see. I know how it is. Yes, you will be nervous. I fully expect to have to talk you into it again. But just remember that you like her, and you'd like to spend more time with her. She already likes you, Jack, you don't have to worry about that. You've already made the first step, and you don't even know it."

"I don't know," Jack said fretfully. "It's not the same thing."

"It's close. The worst that could happen is that she isn't interested that way, and you can just go on being friends. Right?"

"I guess. I don't want to, but I... I guess so."

"Try that again, with a little more drudgery."

"It's just that I don't want to go back that way, that's the whole point."

"Yeah, but if you had to, you would. Because you like having her around."

"...yeah, you're right."

"Of course I am. You don't spend all those years as an unapologetic flirt without picking up some romantic wisdom. So that's your plan – you can ask before or after the party if you like, though I'd suggest after. Makes for less tension during the thing. One thing at a time, you know?"

"Yeah, that would be all right."

Ben nodded. "All right then. Ah, I can't believe it, Jack's got a date!"

"Not yet," Jack said darkly.

"Oh, don't worry about it. You will."

"Yeah, well."

Ignoring his grumpy rejoinder, Ben tapped his fingers on the back of the easy chair. "This is great, Jack. I'm glad it worked out for you. I worry about ya, you know? The last couple of years I always kinda hoped you'd find someone you liked."

You sound like somebody's mother, Jack thought, but didn't stop him. Embarrassing as it was, it was still comforting to think that Ben thought about things like that... to think that somebody even cared about his life.

Jack managed to smile a little. "Thanks. I appreciate the help."

"No problem. Any time." Ben unpeeled himself from the easy chair and started toward the kitchen. "I think I'm going to call it a night. Good night."

"Mmn. 'Night."

A few moments later Ben turned the light out in the kitchen and headed for the bathroom. Jack remained where he was for a little while longer, letting his mind run over the conversation, trying not to think about when he could spring his question on Jane. The party was still coming up. See to that first, and the rest will come around eventually.

After Ben had disappeared into his room, Jack went back to bed and slept a little more peacefully.

Ch. 13: Search For Public Restroom An Epic Ordeal Of Alienation, Humiliation, Human Cruelty

For the occasion of the Halloween party, Ben had arranged for the night off from the coffee shop, a rare thing indeed. Jack arrived home from work to find his roommate already eating dinner. "Rest is in the oven," Ben said between bites.

"What, no pipe and slippers?" Jack smirked, while hanging up his coat.

"Or you could starve," Ben replied cheerfully.

"Yes, dear." Jack got his own dinner and settled in the living room to eat. "Thanks. This is really good."

"You're welcome, and thanks. There's some left, right?"

"Yeah. Are you expecting someone?"

"Yeah, Jane should be over. We figured we could all go together; it saves us the trouble of finding each other there."

"All right."

By the time Jack was halfway done, there was a knock at the door. Ben put down his empty plate and let Jane in. Jack looked up, wondering if she'd already dressed, but she was dressed in her usual clothes and lugging a large shopping bag.

"Hello! Hey, Jack!"

"Hey."

"Something smells good, were you cooking?"

"Yeah, just a casserole. Jack, can you –" Jack was already getting up.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Jane protested as she put down her load – her backpack, the shopping bag, and a long brown package that looked like a roll of wrapping paper.

"It's no problem." Jack retreated to the kitchen, glad for a chance to kill some time by himself. He was a little apprehensive about the night ahead, between putting up with all those strange and probably loud people to the fuss Jane would certainly make over his costume... and not to mention the fact that, as he and Ben had more or less decided the weekend before, this was the last obstacle before he would ask Jane out on a date. And connected to that was the worry that he would somehow embarrass himself before he could even get a chance. There wasn't too much chance of that – on the few instances he had been drunk before, he had never really done anything stupid (Ben, on the other hand, was another matter entirely) – but he couldn't help worrying about it.

When he had made up the plate and poured a glass of ice water he returned to the living room, where Jane had taken a seat across from Ben on the couch. "Oh, thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"It's okay." He returned to his own seat. For a few minutes it was quiet except for the sounds of the silverware and a little polite commenting about the food, as Jane and Jack ate and Ben sipped what was probably his third cup of coffee. Eventually they all finished, and Jack offered to take their dishes to the kitchen before anyone else could protest.

When he returned to the living room things were as he had left them, and Jane was on the edge of her seat, looking expectant.

"You don't look very excited, Jack," she chided. "You are going to go, aren't you?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm working up to it. I'm still in post-work mode."

"Coffee?" Ben offered, holding up his own mug.

"Nah, that'll... no thanks." Making him even more jittery and probably in the restroom half the time would not improve the evening, he suspected. "So are we going to get ready now or what?"

"The enthusiasm, stop. It's killing me," Ben said flatly, and went on in his normal tone. "Yeah, we have forty-five minutes. More than enough time, right?"

"Yeah," Jack shrugged, and Jane nodded.

"Okay then." Jane got up and gathered her things again, then hesitated. "Um, where should I change?"

Ben swallowed some of his coffee. "Mm. There's a mirror in my room if you need one; I shouldn't need too long to get ready, so you can go in there if you want."

"Okay. Thanks." She headed off for Ben's room, and Jack stood uneasily in the middle of the room, not sure whether he should start yet or not.

"So, do you know what she's going as?" he asked Ben.

Ben's face broke out in a smirk. "Ohhh, yeah. And a fine choice, I must say. Although you may not survive. If you do you're a stronger man than I, my friend."

"What?"

"Oh, you'll see."

"I hate it when you do that." There was no real resentment in his voice, though, and as he turned to head for his room a trace of a smile played across his face. Ben kicked his feet up on the coffee table and sipped his coffee smugly.

Jack took his time getting dressed, although his ninja costume wasn't all that complicated. He left the face mask off for now, figuring they would still have some time to kill before heading out to the party. Overall, it was quite comfortable; he was satisfied so far. He slipped out to the bathroom to check it out in the mirror, and shrugged. Not bad. He took a deep breath and headed out to the living room.

He stopped dead as soon as he entered the room. Jane had finished changing and was showing off her costume to Ben, who was still lounging on the couch. He turned as Jack came in, and if anything his self-satisfied smirk was even more triumphantly pleased than before. The impulse flicked through Jack's mind to tell him to shut up, before he realized how little sense that actually made.

He looked back up and tried not to stare, but couldn't help it. To the casual observer it was little more than a creative, somewhat feminized ninja outfit in dark purple and black – at least we'll kind of match, Jack thought randomly. But he, and Ben by all indications, had immediately recognized the insignia on her headband and the other details that identified it as a particular ninja's outfit.

"Akemi," Jack said. "Wow."

"'The fury of fire shall scourge thee!'" Jane cried, and then laughed. "Yeah, isn't it cool? I had it from a convention I went to a couple of years ago, so I thought why not?"

"Nice," Jack said. The initial shock had passed, and he was able to smile encouragingly. It really was a fun idea – granted, Jane was somewhat shorter and markedly less... endowed than the teenage ninja-turned-superheroine from Magical Guardress Sakura, but otherwise it looked pretty convincing. Jack's gaze flicked to Ben's continuing smirk and remembered their conversation about the show, that evening – this character had been Ben's favorite, and the effect was definitely not lost on him. An alarming thought flashed into his mind, and he tapped Ben on the shoulder over the back of the couch. "Hey. Can I talk to you for a second?"

Jane looked dismayed for a moment. "I can... you know, go back... there –" she motioned vaguely toward Ben's room – "if you want."

"It's all right. I have to change anyway." Ben got up, shooting a dark look at Jack, and Jack followed him back to his room. Once the door was closed Ben looked at him impatiently.

"That was kind of rude, Jack."

"I'm sorry. I panicked. Look, do you think this is some kind of ploy?"

"What?"

"Well, you know, she knows Akemi was your favorite. Do you think she might be trying to score some points? You said you thought her crush on you was over, but are you really sure?"

"Oh, for chrissake." Ben sighed. "Short answer. No. Reasons: She's had it for longer than she's known me. Point one. Point two, nothing else in her behavior suggests this, and point three..." he gestured at Jack's outfit, "you are the one in the cute matching getup that she picked out for you."

"But I..." Jack trailed off, considering this. "...you have a point."

"Do I think she might enjoy the attention? Maybe. But I don't think that's the main reason. I don't think she's trying to score points, and I don't think you are let off the hook for asking her out."

"I wasn't..." Jack folded his arms, realizing he had a point again. "Yeah, all right."

"Of course. Now I have to get changed, so out."

"All right." Jack retreated and reluctantly returned to the living room.

"Is everything okay?" Jane asked when she saw him.

"Yeah, it's fine. I just..." He shook his head, wondering how he could phrase it. "I've kind of been worried about this whole thing. Cold feet. You know."

"Aw, you don't have to worry about it. It's just for fun. Heck, nobody will probably even recognize you in that outfit. Well, once you have your mask on. Do you have it?"

Jack held up the end of the mask stuck in his pocket. "Yeah, I guess. But you know, I have to worry. It's what I do." He smiled weakly.

She smiled back. A few moments passed. He was beginning to feel glued to the spot. Jane looked around for a moment and then pulled a prop version of Akemi's jeweled katana from its holder on her back. "En guarde!"

Jack laughed. "Ninjas don't say 'en guarde.'"

"Yeah, well...!" She brandished her sword again, conspicuously saying nothing. Jack chuckled again and realized he'd left his prop sword in his room.

"Just a second." He dashed off to retrieve it and came back; Jane struck her fighting pose again when he re-entered with his sword. He took a playful swipe toward her midsection, which she blocked with her blade with a plastic-on-plastic thock.

Jane snickered triumphantly and took a slow-motion swipe toward his neck; he ducked and swiped in slow motion toward her, and she feigned a hit, clutching her side and stumbling away. She brought her sword back up to eye level with a determined look and charged. Jack let her hit him this time, staggering back with her sword pinned to his side as if he'd been speared. Jane drew her blade back and posed with it across her face in movie-ninja style, as Jack carried on his death scene. When he ran out of ideas for his tortured stumblings he jumped back up to normal.

Jane poked him in the chest with the tip of her sword. "Hey. You're supposed to be dead."

"Uh... I'm another one of those hordes of faceless foot soldiers the villain always sends one at a time?"

"You're lucky I don't have my Sword of Fury move charged up, buddy."

"You're lucky you don't have to wear the battle armor in this weather."

"Heh. Tell me about it." She took a low swipe toward his knees, which he pretended to jump over. They traded blows for a few more minutes, and Jack forgot his nervousness as he became absorbed in the mindless fun. It was surprisingly easy to be silly around her; he had no sense that she might stop and look at him strangely, or make fun of him later. She had started it, and was clearly enjoying it herself. It was a good trait, he thought. He was feeling more relaxed already.

They had traveled partway around the couch toward the television and were threatening to knock over a lamp when Jane, who was facing the couch, suddenly stopped with a little shriek.

"What is-" Jack turned around and froze. Behind him, Jane burst out into convulsive giggling.

"Sure, laugh now," Ben said grandly.

Jack stared for a few more seconds as Ben struck what would have been a regal pose in any other outfit. Ben's costume consisted of a crown, a scepter – which he was now holding out grandly – and, apparently attached to some shorts, a black sign with white lettering that read CENSORED. "Good freaking hell, Ben. What are you supposed to be?"

"The Emperor's New Clothes, silly."

Jack snickered. "You're a lunatic."

"You just wish you were so creative."

"You're going to freeze your exhibitionist ass off in that."

"I'm going to wear a coat to the place. It should be warm inside."

Jane was still giggling. "That is so disturbingly awesome."

"See? Somebody appreciates it."

"I appreciate it, just more toward the 'disturbing' side than the 'awesome' side."

Ben relaxed his pose, spinning his scepter around. "Well, are we ready? Lesbian superheroine of much coolness? Anonymous ninja?"

Jane knelt on the couch and peered over it at Ben's feet. "You're going to get your feet stepped on," she observed.

"Yeah, I'm hoping to keep that to a minimum. Can't help it, though. I can't wear regular shoes, that would look even more ridiculous."

"Is that even possible?" Jack said, tucking his sword under his arm as he tied on his ninja mask. He took a step around the couch to see what Jane was looking at – Ben's footwear consisted of gold-painted sandals. "Mm, not so much stepped on as freezing them off on the way there."

"Yeah, the price I pay for my talent."

"And having people ogle your half-naked self once you get there," Jack smirked.

"Same difference."

Jack shook his head, chuckling. He tugged on the edges of the mask. "How's it look?" His voice was only a little muffled by the cloth.

Jane went over to him and adjusted it a little. "Looks good. See, told you it would work."

"Yeah, it's not bad. Thanks."

Jane smiled and bounded in a most un-ninja-like fashion to the door, where she took down her coat and started to put it on. With a little sigh, Jack followed suit with a bit less enthusiasm. Ben took off the "CENSORED" signs – there was a matching sign on the front and back – with a little rip of parting velcro. He was, as Jack had guessed, wearing black shorts and apparently nothing else.

"You're lucky to not get arrested in that," Jack smirked.

"Please, I've seen worse."

"So have I," Jane volunteered. "You should see the conventions, some people are, like, much, much worse. And that's all day. And some go wandering out for lunch and stuff like that, around the city."

Ben started slyly, "So... next time you go, Jane..." Jack punched him in the arm.

In a few minutes they were bundled up; Jack and Jane carried their swords, since they wouldn't fit under their coats, and Ben carried his signs under his arm. They headed for the elevator and waited a few minutes, while Ben chanted "Warm. Warm. Very warm," under his breath.

"It's not that bad," Jane offered. "It's chilly, but it's not snowing or anything."

"Please don't even say 'snow.'"

The elevator doors opened, and the three of them squeezed into the elevator with Goth Guy from Six and a girl in a leather coat and a lip piercing who was chewing gum.

"We're going to a costume party," Jane said brightly, by way of completely unnecessary explanation. Jack reflected that the ninja mask at least covered his blushing.

"Hm," remarked G.G.S.

"Are you supposed to be Akemi from, uh, Magical Guardress Sakura?" the girl with the pierced lip asked.

Jane turned to face her excitedly. "Yeah! You know that show?"

"Yeah, I used to watch it when I was a kid. Well, you know, like middle school."

"Oh, cool, me too."

Fortunately the elevator reached the bottom floor, and Jack escaped to the hallway. The others piled out, and ignoring Ben's little whines of despair, headed out to the sidewalk.

"Have fun, guys," the girl commented, as she and their upstairs neighbor walked off in the other direction.

"Thanks!" Jane called back.

Ben whined again, hopping up and down to stay warm and clutching his signs to his chest. "Guys? Faster?"

"All right, all right." Jane skipped ahead of him in an extremely un-ninja-like fashion. "You look like a flasher in that trench coat, by the way."

"Opening this coat is the last thing on earth I would want to do right now."

The three of them hurried along toward the club called The Edge, which was a few blocks away, not that far from the coffee shop. Jack tried to gather his courage and reminded himself that nobody would know who he was, that he didn't have to talk to anyone if he didn't want to, that if he tried to stay with either one of the others he'd be fine. It wasn't that bad. He could check out everyone else's costumes, have something to drink – it was free, after all, and he didn't have to have too much – and then he could go home, and say he'd tried it. Not bad at all.

[Skipped: They go to the costume party. It's more long and boring than expected. Jane gets separated from the group on the way to the restroom, Ben splits off to case the crowd, Jack hangs around sipping free beer, getting pity conversation from acquaintances of Ben's and not doing very much at all. This goes on for a few hours.]

Jack startled as someone flung an arm around his neck, and he could feel a body moving close behind him; shock and a sudden, instinctive surge of desire clashed in his body and mind even as he realized who it was. Then a sick wave of fear rolled over the other reactions, and he struggled to get out of the person's warm grasp.

"Goddammit, Ben. You scared me."

Ben let him go, chuckling, and Jack spun around. Ben's face looked a little flushed, and despite the cocky, challenging expression he had a kind of careless languor that Jack recognized all too well. Two hours in and he was most definitely on his way around the bend. And, Jack realized as the anger slipped from his system as easily as it had come, he realized he was on his way there himself.

Ben's former coworker in the fairy wings chuckled and waved to both of them as she slipped off into the crowd. Jack nodded to her and turned his attention back to Ben, who was leaning back against the bar with a glass of beer.

"Have you seen Jane?"

"Yeah, she's over there, I talked to her for a second. She saw somebody she knows from high school, or something."

"Oh, okay." That was all right, wasn't it? Somehow that made it less disturbing, thinking that she wasn't picking men up at random. At some point she'd run out of things to catch up on and come back, right?

"Don't worry, Jack, I don't think anything was up."

"I didn't think anything was up," Jack replied indignantly. "Besides, even if it were she has every right, right? It's not like I, you know."

"Yeah, but you had that look."

"Ehh." Watching Ben drink, he was reminded of something. "Hey, does she still think I – you know."

"Are you going to finish all your sentences with 'you know' from now on? I don't know what she thinks, I haven't talked to her about it since then. Have you?"

"Um, no."

"Well, you can figure it out later. Doesn't matter that much now, does it."

"I don't know," he replied, not entirely sure what Ben meant, and not caring particularly much either way. He was feeling pleasantly warm despite what would probably become a flush of easily triggered horniness after another beer or two, although that did not concern him much at this point. He wouldn't have minded sitting down with Ben at this point to talk either, since his friend's devil may care, casual attitude struck him as an admirable thing. Of course, he could have just as happily gone to sleep at that moment. He wasn't all that concerned with details. He drank a little more of the beer, which was tasting better as he went along, and leaned back against the bar next to Ben, looking at the crowd.

There was a mixture of local types, students and slackers, with a range of costumes – Jack entertained himself by looking over them again, now that the crowd had gotten a bit thicker. Ben was, although perhaps the most extreme, not the only one to have risked hypothermia outside the club. The impending phase of easily triggered horniness had mellowed to a low, calm state; he was content to watch, although he seemed to stare a bit longer than he normally would.

"Lot of cute girls here tonight," Ben remarked appreciatively.

"Mn. How are the guys?" Jack asked, with a little smirk. Ben looked down.

"Mm. I, uh. Funny you should mention that. I, uh... haven't really had the nerve to go up to anyone. Apart from, you know, the risk of getting decked and all. I, like... it's weird, you know? It's like I'm back in high school and scared to death all over again."

"Some of us never leave that phase, you know."

"Heh. You will, don't worry about it. Anyway, yeah. I haven't really, you know. Tried."

"Hm. How's the scenery, then?"

"Mm, the scenery's good, it's good... I kind of try not to look, too, you know. I guess... I don't know." Ben was definitely blushing now, and Jack could see a faint shine of sweat on his skin. He looked away. "I probably overestimated my own confidence while dressed like a goofball, you know?"

"Heh. It is a good costume."

"Yeah, but it doesn't exactly help your nerves to have to walk up to somebody while half-naked and go, 'Hey, I've never asked a guy out before, but what do you say about a little writhing out there surrounded by a couple hundred strangers, because you're really making me hot. Please disregard this message if you're straight, because I have practically no radar. Thank you and good day.'"

"Radar? You can always look for guys who are already dancing with other guys."

"Ehhh, that's only half the problem, Jack. Look, I just haven't gotten up the nerve yet. It's something I'm still getting used to. Next time. Right now I'm just enjoying being an attention whore and chatting up some cute girls. Let me think about it on my own time, preferably a lot more sober than this."

"That's fair," Jack murmured.

"Besides, I don't think I'm the type to do that anyway... I mean, it's fun talking with people and stuff, but I'm not really the type to pick people up at clubs. I like talking with them first instead of getting straight to the sex. You know? I mean, not literally the sex, but in that kind of mood. I like getting to know people first. You know, you probably think I'm the biggest slut on earth, but despite what everyone thinks I don't sleep around that much. It's just talking, just in fun, you know? Playing. I've only slept with my girlfriends, and after we've been going out a while."

"Too much information, Ben," Jack said softly.

"But I can trust you with that, Jack, you know that?"

"I know."

"Not many people you can trust with things like that. Not even sure I could trust Jane, really, because she's a nice girl and all, but I still don't know what she thinks about some things. But you, I can trust you with anything."

"Thank you," Jack said indistinctly, feeling a little more drowsy, although pleasantly so. He wondered when he had finished the last glass and where Jane was, come to think of it. "Um, I think I'm gonna have to find a restroom."

"I think it's in the back, over there," Ben pointed through the crowd. "I'll be here."

"Okay." Jack wound his way along a meandering path through the crowd, slowing down now and then to look at interesting costumes, and eventually made his way to the men's room. On his way out he saw a now-familiar black and purple costume with a sword across the back; Jane was facing away from him, and the guy in the knight costume was nowhere to be seen. The sight cheered him. He walked up behind her and tugged the hilt of her sword; she spun around and stumbled a little, then put a hand to her head.

"Whoa. Dizzy. Hey, Jack. How's it going?"

"All right, I guess. Are you okay?"

"Kinda. I'm okay. Um... I already asked how you are. Your turn."

"Well, I'm just going back to see Ben again, assuming he hasn't gone out to suck up more attention yet. Wanna come with me?"

"Sure." She took hold of his arm - so they wouldn't get separated, he rationalized to himself - and, even more slowly than he had come, made their way back across the club toward the bar. The music was starting to make his head hurt a little, and he was getting tired, but it didn't bother him very much. He was, however, worried about Jane being dizzy. And he still wondered about something... "So," he said as they picked through the crowd, "who was that guy back there? Somebody you know?"

"Oh, of course. I don't go picking up strangers or something. We went to the same high school."

"Friend of yours, then?"

"Mm, not that much. Had a bunch of classes together and stuff, but I haven't talked to him since graduation. Oh, there's Ben. He sticks out, doesn't he."

"Yeah, he does."

Jane let go of him and pulled ahead to catch Ben in a hug. Ben blushed a little; Jack looked toward the end of the bar.

"Whoa. Enough for you, I think," Ben said, trying not to laugh.

"I'm okay. Kinda dizzy. But I'm fine."

"How are you doing, Jack? Having fun?"

"Yeah, it's okay." He would rather have stayed home with them, because the best parts of the evening had involved talking to them, but it was interesting enough to see all the costumes.

"Please, hold back your enthusiasm, will you? It's embarrassing."

"Sorry. I'm pretty tired. It's been a long day, and all."

"Oh yeah, you worked all day, huh." Jane detached herself from Ben to pat Jack on the arm. She was definitely not in her right mind.

"Yeah... So do you guys want to stay longer, or what?"

"I don't mind," Jane said cheerfully.

"I could cut out now, yeah. I've had some fun, it's all good. Time to brave the elements again. Whew." Ben finished off his drink and left the cup on the bar. He readjusted his crown and pointed toward the exit with his scepter, which, Jack reflected, he was surprised Ben still had. "And now we go."

The three of them took a long time to make their way to the exit, trying not to lose each other and allowing time for Ben to say hello or goodbye to various people along the way. Eventually they retrieved their coats and headed back out into the cold.

The cold cleared his head a little, but Jack still felt very tired, especially without the thumping music keeping him awake. He was grateful when they made it to their apartment, and, after mumbling good night to Jane and Ben, took off his shoes and as much of the costume as was necessary to sleep comfortably and crashed thankfully into bed.

Part III: Stairways Are For Lovers

Ch. 14: Orgy A Logistical Nightmare

Jack was first aware of feeling warm, though, at first, not uncomfortably warm. He was drifting in and out of vaguely pleasant dreams, starting to realize that it was morning, that it was Saturday, and, as he loosed himself from sleep far enough to push the covers out of his way, that he was not alone.

He snapped into full consciousness, his eyes stinging from the sunlight that speared through the slats of the window blinds. His heart pounding, he shot up into a sitting position, twisted around, and for a moment had a very real fear that he would throw up.

His mind blanked – he didn't remember this. He went to bed and that was all he remembered. Yes, he had been drunk, but never in his life had he been drunk enough to forget where he'd been, what he'd done. Though panic was turning his joints to jelly, he lurched off the foot of the bed and fled the room, slamming the door behind him.

Once in the bathroom, with the door shut behind him, he gripped the edges of the sink and concentrated on not vomiting. His head was whirling, still half-asleep, stabbed over and over by dull-edged pains. His mouth tasted foul and his body was rubber-weak.

He had just woken up in bed with another person for the first time in his life, and he didn't remember it.

Person. Worse. People. His two best friends.

And he didn't remember it.

Jack brushed his teeth first, to get the wretched taste out of his mouth, and stripped almost violently, flinging his clothes into the corner of the bathroom. He turned the shower water on and shivered until it grew warm enough, then stepped in and felt like fainting with relief.

He had come in with both of them. Had said good night. Had come in, taken his shoes and shirt off along with the gloves and bandanna and face mask that were part of the costume, and had fallen asleep. He didn't remember anything else.

He didn't remember anything.

Jack took a deep, uneven breath in the steaming air, standing soaking in the hot spray. His stomach quailed with terror. This was wrong on a scale he could hardly comprehend. But that image, edged with soft morning light, was seared into his mind and would not go away. Jane on his left, curled up next to him, her body fit to the shape his body had left. Wearing a tank top with thin straps that left her shoulders bare. Ben on his right, sprawled on his back. Jack grabbed the soap dish to keep himself from falling and commanded himself to keep breathing.

He didn't remember anything. Nothing. Falling asleep, and then the now-decaying remnants of dreams, and then waking up between his two best friends. The rest was a void.

Shaking, Jack made himself numbly pick up the soap and set to washing his face, letting the hot water rinse much longer than necessary. Then he washed it again. It let him keep his eyes closed. Mechanically he moved through the routine, more slowly than usual, but the thoughts would not stop circling through his mind.

He couldn't remember anything. Something had happened, something major, something that could break everything – how could he ask her out for coffee now? His stomach clenched, and for a moment tears prickled in his eyes. He had fucked it up, deeply, and he couldn't even remember it. Yes, he had wanted her, but not like this, not now. He had wanted to work up his courage, ask her out, talk over coffee, hold her hand sometime, steal a kiss while watching a movie. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. And he couldn't even remember it. And he would kick himself for this, for the rest of his life, and he didn't even have the memories to console him: This is what you could have had; this is what you had for one brief moment. He had nothing, nothing but regret over something he couldn't remember doing, and the panic that he had broken something he hadn't even gotten to hold.

He wanted to remember. If all else failed, he wanted to remember. He didn't know what had happened, what it had felt like, what he had done, what her body had felt like – Jack felt his cheeks flaming and turned his thoughts away from that – he had nothing.

He would not allow himself to think of Ben. Ben was a black box, an unknown quantity. Maybe nothing had happened. Even though he had woken up lying between them, and Ben was shirtless – the covers had been up to his waist, so there was nothing more he could tell. Jack didn't want to think about that. On some level he worried about it less – either way, he knew Ben, and he knew they could fix things if they went wrong. He wasn't sure about Jane.

But even so. It was different. Wasn't it?

When he was drunk, hadn't he been looking? Hadn't he blushed when Ben had started talking about the girls he'd slept with? Ever since Ben had had that dream about him, the thought had lain untouched in the back of his mind, the thought that he somehow, selfishly, liked the idea. He liked the idea that Ben might desire him.

Sick.

Jack lifted his face to the pouring water and stood for a while, hugging his arms to his chest. It was sick, but it was true. Somewhere in his reptile brain the thought appealed to him immensely. He had been so aroused by watching them together, thinking they were fooling around, when he'd caught them alone in the living room. That thought had come back to him unbidden, in flashes, when his mind raced through such heated thoughts alone, though he didn't want to think about it afterwards.

And he loved them both, didn't he, after a fashion. Who else would he trust with something like this? The nakedness, literally and figuratively, of being so close to another person that there was nothing left to hide behind - the thought of this terrified him; it always had. Who else would make him feel safe enough to drop his guard?

This was wrong. So wrong, so wrong. Jack shook his head, pressing his fingers to his eyelids to keep from crying. What was he supposed to say to them now? Sorry about that, and by the way, could you fill me in, because I don't remember a second of it? Hope I wasn't totally abysmal; I've never done this before, you know.

Through the rush of water he heard a tap on the bathroom door, and Ben's muffled voice: "Jack?"

He looked up, but did not answer. Red-eyed, shaking, on the verge of tears, no, definitely not answering.

"Jack, are you all right?"

A harsh bark of laughter escaped him. "What the fuck! Do you think I'm all right?" His voice was surprisingly loud in the small room, and carried a strangled, thick layer of panic that almost scared him.

"Is something wrong?"

Jack could no longer resist, and started laughing, a high-pitched, creepy giggle that made the tears start flowing. He felt like collapsing on the bottom of the bathtub. There was another knock at the door, and then, after a few seconds, a little click.

"Jack." Ben's voice was no longer muffled; he'd stepped into the room.

"What the hell, were you raised in a barn?"

"Yes, a barn in the suburbs. Are you all right, Jack? You've been in there a long time, and I wondered if you were feeling all right. Now it sounds like you're not. Are you okay?"

Feeling more stupid than he'd felt in his life, and horribly exposed despite the shower curtain, Jack stood under the hot water and stared at the shower curtain. "You can't be serious."

"What?"

"I just fucked my two best friends, you moron, and now I can't remember anything."

There was a dead silence for a few seconds, apart from the splashing water.

"What the hell- oh. Oh my god. Jack. No. Look, can you get out of there? This is awkward enough."

Jack let out a frustrated growl. "And it'll be less awkward if I'm standing there naked?"

"Well, I wasn't thinking that, but now that you mention it-"

"Don't joke about that now!"

"Sorry, sorry. Here. I have a towel."

"Mmph." Jack stood under the water for a few more seconds, then shut it off. He stood dripping for a moment until Jack's hand thrust the towel through the gap at the edge of the shower curtain, then took it and toweled himself off. It was still intensely awkward, but... He wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out of the bathtub. Ben stood with his back against the door. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants that he often wore to sleep in – that answered that question, some part of Jack's mind noted insanely.

"Jack, listen. Nothing happened."

"What the fuck? I just woke up in bed with both of you, and you..." He paused, feeling as if his breath were being squeezed out of him, with a sick worry that talking about it would start making him horny. That would be beyond awkward. "It didn't look all that innocent to me."

Ben looked at the floor. "Yeah, well. We kinda... We were both drunk, you know that. After you went to bed we were talking for a while, about things, and... She really, really likes you, Jack. I think she's afraid to say anything because she thinks you'll be cynical about it or not like her back. Maybe she still thinks you're after me. I don't know. And I..." He crossed his arms over his chest, looking strangely vulnerable. "I was... I was talking about how I don’t have the nerve to approach guys even if I know I'm interested, and how the only one I really feel comfortable with is you. So we... it was a really stupid thing to do, I know. After you fell asleep we sneaked into your room and... well, nothing." Ben was blushing now, and shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I, for one, was out like a light within a few minutes. Yeah, I... I liked being near you, but I didn't do anything. I promise, Jack. I don't know what I can tell you other than I'm sorry and I feel like such an ass right now."

Jack said nothing, as the words seeped into the red confusion in his mind. Slowly he sank to the edge of the bathtub, sitting with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Jack," Ben repeated quietly. "I'd completely understand if you hated me right now. I... I mean, if Jane had still wanted to go along with it I should have let her, but I should have stopped myself. That was wrong. I had no business going where I wasn't wanted."

"Shut up, Ben." At his soft command Ben was silent, staring at him confusedly. "Never say that. It's not like that at all. I don't want you beating yourself up for it when I didn't even mind. That's so not important now."

"You... what?"

"You scared the fuck out of me," Jack replied bitterly. "I thought I'd... I thought something had happened and I couldn't remember, and I started thinking everything would get screwed up with both of you – well, Jane mostly, since I know you and I can work through just about anything. But I thought I – I had done something major and I couldn't remember a thing of it, and I was scared to death."

"That wasn't it," Ben said.

"I know. I know. I'm just trying to get back from that place of, you know, freaking out and thinking I hadn't even drunk enough to black out, and everything-"

"Yeah, I know. You only had what, three beers all night? What kind of Reefer Madness bull is that?"

"Yeah, well, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck..."

"...it's two very stupid people who are too fucking scared to say what they want."

Jack looked up; Ben was leaning with his hip against the door, his arms still folded, looking at the floor. "You..."

"I don't know what I want," Ben said quietly. "I mean... in a way I do, but when I think about it I freeze. I don't think I'm ready to face it, you know? And I... I guess I think about you because you're safe. I can trust you. And it's wrong, but doing what I did was kind of like testing out how it felt, with someone I could feel safe with. I'm sorry, Jack. I shouldn't put you in that position, and I regret it."

Jack thought about this, feeling his friend's embarrassed sorrow threading through his own confused relief. In a way... was it so different from what he was thinking about Jane? And what of the fact that he didn't mind this at all? And the sick, strange impulse Jack had to get up and hug him?

"It's all right, Ben," he managed to say at last. "I don't hate you. Or resent you, or think you're stupid."

Ben closed his eyes, not looking at him. "Thank you."

And Jack found himself getting up after all, putting his arms around him, feeling his bare skin warm against his own, feeling the shocked catch in his friend's breath before he hugged Jack in return.

"It's okay, Ben. We'll be all right."

Ben nodded wordlessly, with an odd little hiccup in his breath, and hugged him a little tighter for a moment. "Thank you," he said, barely above a whisper.

Jack stepped back, feeling more calm than he'd felt since he woke. "So... what do we do now?"

"Um. I'm all for going back to sleep, really. Of course, where is up to you..."

"Heh." Jack shook his head, looking at the wall. He sighed. "I don't care, really. I have to admit I don't mind. Now that I know there wasn't some big thing going on that I can't remember, it's not that different from when we were all watching Sakura together. Is it."

Ben shrugged. "You can look at it that way, yeah." He reached for the doorknob. "I'll talk to Jane, let her know what's up." He opened the door and slipped out into the hallway. Jack gathered up his clothes and realized with a tickle of embarrassment that he'd have to change into pajamas at some point. Well, at this rate that was a minor complication... He turned off the light and headed back toward his room.

Ch. 14: Despite Claims, Long Story Not Made Short

Jack woke for the second time snugged between his two best friends; Ben was sprawled out on his back again, apparently oblivious to everything as he slept, and Jane was curled up closer to him, with her head very near his shoulder. Jack stared at the ceiling for a while, in the peace between them as they slept. He wanted Jane to be closer to him, although the thought frightened him at the same time. It was a thought he entertained for a while, though, a warm thought with the loaded tension of a bowstring. Her head on his shoulder, her arm around him... Jack closed his eyes. His thoughts were rushing forward, loosed for a moment to careen into territory even more thrilling and terrifying. And just as their interlude was joined by a third, in his mind, as he knew it would, he sat up and climbed off the end of the bed again.

He was awake, now, and he could not sleep again. Jack quietly gathered some clothes and went out to the bathroom to change. He had to clear his mind, to think without speaking for a while, to turn over these thoughts like dark stones until he knew all their sides. He put on his shoes at the doorway and let himself out into the hall outside the apartment.

Waiting for the elevator he thought with a little half-smile that he could imagine himself talking to a total stranger, the guy from upstairs, whoever. Anonymous confession. What could he say? I messed up the process with someone I want to approach, and now I don't know what to do. But that's not even the worst thing. I don't really know what I want anymore.

But the elevator was empty.

Jack rode down to the ground floor and walked out into the street with his hands in his pockets, shivering a little in the wind. He walked toward the commercial district where the coffee shop was, with a vague goal in mind, mostly concerned with the continued movement and the solitude.

Things might be all right with Jane, after all. She had been oddly fond of touching him, lately, although that might have been due to her thinking he wasn't attracted to her – but his guess, now that he could think about it a little more objectively, was that she wouldn't mind this at all. She was affectionate like that. She'd been the one to encourage him and Ben to cozy up while watching Magical Guardress Sakura, all that time ago. And she had seemed very comfortable even after he'd returned, when Ben had apparently told her what was going on. She wasn't likely to freak out about this.

Oddly enough, it was his thoughts about Ben that let off a forbidding hum like a live wire and sent weird jitters into his stomach. Things were good with him, too. ...maybe too good. He'd admitted to thinking about Jack and wanting to be near him – perhaps drunkenly, but still – because Jack was the only one he felt comfortable with so far. Fair enough; Jack couldn't exactly relate, but he could extrapolate in some ways, from how he'd felt about Jane at first. The thought didn’t bother him. This was the first problem – was it really healthy to let him go on like that? Jack looked at the ground as he walked. That wasn't even what bothered him.

What bothered him was that he didn't mind, that it didn't bother him, and that the only way that it made him uncomfortable at all was through not making him uncomfortable enough.

Jack looked up as he came up to a bagel shop and went inside, intentionally snapping his train of thought. He bought breakfast for the three of them – with enough for another breakfast left over, actually – and headed back out onto the street. He would have to go back. He had no excuse to keep wandering around indefinitely.

The thought still lay in the back of his mind, though, a snapshot of his daydream, at the moment when he turned his head away from the girl he was kissing and...

His grip tightened on the bag, and he felt himself blushing a little, although no one could read his thoughts. And a good thing, too; he wasn't even sure if he could tell Ben about this. Something would most likely happen, and although the thought didn't entirely disappoint him, there was still something wrong about it. He couldn't imagine the rest of it, couldn't imagine having any kind of relationship other than what they had now. He didn't really want that. And even though the thought of fooling around in some way was arousing to him – he couldn't deny that now, not with the daydream about the three of them on constant loop at the back of his mind – it wouldn't be fair to lure Ben into something like that without any intention of a personal connection. He wouldn't want to mislead him; the last thing he wanted was to cause his friend more grief, daydreams of wrongness aside.

And besides, why did this have to happen now, anyway? Just when he had found a girl he liked well enough and started to work up the courage of asking her out, finally, finally. Why did this have to crash the gates now? It was as if he been gifted by some god of bad timing, as if the author of his life were rushing for a deadline and throwing in one major development after another. Why now, why not back in college, when he'd been sick with frustration and stress, or in the intervening years, when he had lapsed into boredom so routine that it bordered on apathy, and he'd all but given up on ever finding someone? Why not then?

Jack sighed, his breath steaming in the cold morning air. No use worrying about that now; it had happened now, despite all logic, and he had to deal with it somehow.

He approached the building with as much resolve as he could muster, and took the stairs slowly. He was armed only with bagels and the truth. The rest would just have to come.

November 2003

Dares

Back to Top

The Dare Thread is a NaNoWriMo tradition; essentially people throw out random challenges, snippets and other things to be worked into stories. Most are too absurd for my purposes, but in this case, which was amenable to dorky randomness, I threw in some dares to jog my own very thin imagination.

Dares used in this story, in vague order of appearance (some may have been in sections that were omitted for this site):

• (this is a BIG one) Write your NaNo in three parts, and name those three parts Ben is Never Home, Free Beer, and Stairwells are for lovers. Don't ask why, as it is a long story. - BoldDeciever [The sections were INCREDIBLY lopsided, but that's what happens when you don't plan your plot ahead of time...]
• I dare you to name all of your chapters after headlines from The Onion. The titles could directly relate to the content of the chapter, or they could be completely off by a million miles, it doesn't matter. Just use them! For example, you could have Chapter 5: Dolphins Evolve Opposable Thumbs: 'Oh, Shit,' Says Humanity, Chapter 9: Hostel-Dwelling Swede Getting Laid Big-Time or Chapter 13: Schwarzenegger Elected First Horseman Of The Apocalypse. - Tenchi Kaze
• Have your first line be "Where the hell are my pants?" - Muse Muffin
• Start out your novel with "Jack, you asshole!" Stipulation: your main character cannot be named Jack. - lintilla [I didn't do this dare, but did steal the name of my narrator from it. So I did it backwards.]
• Have all characters' surnames come from a related set of words (i.e. cities in South Dakota, plant species, etc.) - JennMad [(Jack) Singer, (Ben) Bernina and (Jane) Husqvarna are, of course, brands of sewing machines]
• Have someone wear a shirt that says "Eschew obfuscation".- beanchica1959
• I double-dog dare ya: Have a character who compulsively hordes complimentary CDs (a la AOL). He can have some intended use, or not, but his dwelling must be cluttered with tall stacks of them on every available surface. - BoldDeceiver [mentioned in passing, then dropped]
• Include the phrase/title "The Boobs That Destroyed Tokyo" - Pittsburgh NaNo meetup
• I dare you to include a dream sequence involving the repeated failed sending of a Zipped PDF file. One of those dreams where you -have- to get something done; it's the most urgent thing EVER, but you -just can't do it-. - Miiru [this was excerpted out]
• The Mr. Ian Woon dare has its own thread (this was part of the dream sequence - "Mr. Ian Woon" is an anagram of "Nanowrimo")
• Self-dare, of sorts: Around the second or third chapter I decided to see how often I could have my absurdly caffeinated narrators drink either Coke or coffee. I never counted, but I don't think they drink anything else, ever, except beer twice and water once (when Jack and Jane eat dinner after the manga scene).

• I dare you to include a plot twist, which prominently features strawberry yogurt, that will leave deep psychological scars on your main character. Must be strawberry! None of that black cherry or blueberry junk! - jaq
• I dare you to have your character meet always the one and same person in the lift (if there's a lift in his/her house), no matter what time of the day. Always. In the end of your novel, make your character go and tell something important to the person-in-the-lift, only to find that the person is NOT in the lift, for the fist time. - Zenei [This is the genesis of GGS, long-suffering extra. I don't remember why he doesn't talk, though.]
• I dare you to have one character play an instrument. ..what? Really! It's that simple! - Max_v2
• I dare you to include "Yes. Shrubberies are my trade. I am a shrubber. My name is 'Roger the Shrubber'. I arrange, design, and sell shrubberies" somewhere in your novel. Substituting your character's name for Roger, unless your character is in fact called Roger. - celebren
• "Busty lesbian ninja" is a meme phrase from Nano 02.
• If you were in Nano last year, mention your novel, by title of course, from last year. - phoebeamoebe [it was "The World Outside", mentioned on Jane's website]
• Include earrings shaped like penises - Pittsburgh NaNo meetup [in the pirate story o'course]
• 3 references to sand art. That's all I ask. - Samantha [I think I did one, that's where it came from]
• Make frequent references to someone's "hinder" or "area." Also include a reference to a "buffalo shot." - AquariumDrinker [just one, but that's where "lady with the suspicious area" came from - can't resist an MST3K ref]
• So here's mine: Have a troup of cubscouts march through your stories, who will try to sell some of your characters lottery tickets to raise funds for their annual camp. - Sahi
• I dare you to have a major fight take place in an MMORPG. - Pixel_Toa
• Write a scene about a group of people who are supposed to meet each other somewhere, but let them all end up in different parts of the city they were supposed to meet in. - Sahi [used it in the MMORPG]
• This is essentially a twist of a dare last year. In your story, mention NaNoWriMo--only, it shouldn't be exactly NaNo as it is. It should be some twisted but still somewhat recognizable form of NaNo. Ideas I've come up with along these lines include a Reality Show about six people living in one house and trying to write 50000 words each in a month, or a pirate ship trying to obtain 50000 gold in one month, or a twist on the 'thousand cranes' origami thing featuring 50,000 cranes. - Kass Fireborn [the house-building project they walk past]
• Have a character who is wildly obsessed with Harry Potter. The catch is, do not mention any names. That is, just have the character constantly allude and refer to the books/movies without saying the words "Harry Potter" or "Sirius Black" or even "J.K. Rowling." - phoebeamoebe [Not constant, but this is where the bad HP-analogue fic came from - combined with a different dare, which I didn't save, about a Gilderoy Lockhart cameo]
• I dare one of your characters to say: "Come on, (insert other character name here). Don't you want me to beat you up for a few minutes?" - BoldDeciever [Shortened to "Do you want me to beat you up for a few minutes?", but I did steal the line]
• have at least 2 of your characters get into a debate about "Which is better, pizza or sex?" List reasons, come to a conclusion, make it an on running theme, whatever! - thatgirlnamedsuz [this was the skipped part - it was OK but not all that funny]
• Have one character think everyone is gay based on anything that they may say or do. For example 'oh he's gay - yesterday I saw him getting a diet coke from the pop machine' - jibylite [This indirectly spawned the "Jack must be gay because he suffered through two books of shounen-ai manga" scene, though it doesn't fit the dare]
• No characters in your book may be described as having blonde hair. Someone must make reference to having sex in a kitchen. [...] One character must hate your favourite author/actor/singer with a passion. Reasons why must be given. - ECM [Jack hates the Smiths; that "Ben was playing that whiny music like his ex-girlfriend used to listen to" line came up during the costume shopping. I don't think I had any good reasons, though. I don't remember what song Jane is la-la-la-ing out.]
• I dare you to have a Character actually listen to the Radio, with DJ's talking. - tainted_phial [snipped, it was before the costume party]
• Have characters go to a Halloween party where someone is dressed as the Emperor from "The emperor's new clothes" - Lissibith
• I dare you to include a 4000 word long showering/bathing/similar scene. - Ddriana [I couldn't do it, but that's why there's so much angst in the shower near the end]
• Okay, classical, but do it anyway. Get a character drunk and in bed with somebody of the same sex. Do it. XD - Kalika Maxwell

References: Again, all the games / comics / movies in this story are fictional, but most are loosely based on something. Space Crusader Red is based on a wide swath of space anime that I don't understand, Magical Guardress Sakura on Sailor Moon, Sorcery Realms on an amalgam of Dragon Warrior, The Elder Scrolls, and every generic MUD that I briefly played in my brief period of generic MUD playing, Night and Steel on nothing in particular, Send Me an Angel on Angel Sanctuary which isn't even shounen-ai and which I don't think I had even read yet at the time (go figure), there's a drive-by reference to Gravitation (comics about gay rock stars), and the "Veronica Quill" story is based on Harry Potter of course. And THAT, at long last, is that.