I got the idea for this while reading an email from our very own crashintothesun while at work and rushing between my email account and trying to fill mix-in jars before my shift ended. And, as starryeyed68 always says, "Damn, you're prolific!"

I'm always brining my A-game and most original works to the table, so I felt it was time to tackle something so unlike me – the cliché. The idea of this little something is to take all of those clichés that we know and (insert emotion here), and flip 'em; use them but up the ante.

Yet, in saying all of this, I'm going against the tired cliché and dropping the antithesis to it all - hence the title.

This is the levity I need to flow through the utterly depressing LC. I think I may have fun with this.

I hope it's well received as always.

Title: Anti-Thesis
Summary: What happens when it's the same yet totally different?
Category: Romance/Humor/Pseudo-angst
Rating: T for truth, totality, and turn-about

PS: I really never sleep. 5 hours a night and I'm good. Plus, I should own Starbucks by now. Haha...

Chapter 1 / Going on 30

Same tired scene, same tired characters, and the same tired plot line. What else could happen on a rainy school-free Saturday? Tommy stood by the complicated console, shoulders tense and ready to explain away his life. Jude sat poised in the office desk chair, poised for attack. Was it always meant to end up this way? Laugh, sing, throw a tantrum – the complete essence of a complete mess. Something was going to give.

"Jude, I've told you this before. I don't know what else there's left to say. I'm sorry!"

"If you'd just tell me the truth for once, maybe our days wouldn't end up like this!" Jude stopped herself, realizing how bad the broken record style of their partnership was wearing thin. "You know what? Forget it."

Tommy turned to face her, face begging for her not to just let it die on the same sour note it always did. She shook her head, smiling at his pleading façade.

"What?" A usual question for a not so usual man, the predecessor of the beginning or end.

"I'm tired of this, Tommy. It's always the same with us. I write a song that usually ends up being about us, you get that look, and we argue. It's just... getting old. The drama is getting old. Hell, I know you're tired of it. I can tell Georgia and Kwest are tired of walking in on it. And me? It gets me no where and I'm beginning to get sick of hearing myself talk! It's pointless."

Tommy looked mystified by this surge of honesty yet he was hanging onto every word she spoke. Maybe it was the way she wore that lip gloss that made him think thoughts he really shouldn't or just the never before seen maturity she was spitting, he didn't know.

"You're right. It is getting pretty bad."

Jude mock glared, laughing away his agreement.

"I mean, look at us! Together, we rock the music world hardcore but can barely hold a conversation for five minutes before one of us is ready to walk away and call it quits." She paused, thinking of where to take the subject. It was time to finally take all the advice from her songs. "I want you and you know it. You like me that much I can say. It's that simple, but you have your reasons and I have my lies. It hasn't worked for us, Tommy. I'm not asking you to profess something you can't or won't, but whatever. I miss my partner-in-crime and my friend. Besides, you're with Sadie. I wish you two well. Hopefully, you wish the same for Jaime and me. And who knows? Maybe one daysomething can go down. For your sake, maybe I'll still want you."

Tommy was almost speechless, taken completely aback by the frank way she came out from behind the smoke and mirrors. He let himself relax, taking a seat next to her, and pulling her chair close enough that he could drape his arm over her shoulders. She leaned against his arm, looking to him expectantly.

"I don't know what to say, girl."

"What's to say, Tommy? I laid it on the line, but I guess it wasn't in the way I always wanted."

He take a hold of her gaze, smiling a smile that would make her melt even when she was 80 and could barely remember where she lived. The moment should have been uncomfortable, but she'd never been so relaxed around him.

"Tell me, though. When did you turn 30?"

She couldn't help but laugh, shifting to rest her legs against the arm of seat. His hand slipped down her arm at her movement, her skin tingling under his finger tips. It just felt right, but the kind of right friends turned lovers shared.

"I think it was when I was on tour, somewhere between Alberta and Saskatchewan."

He chuckled at her humor, never feeling as at ease or wanting her so much as he did then. Was that how it was? Tell the truth and you end up wanting the professor even more? That couldn't be right in even the minutest proportions.

"Alright, girl. Back in the booth you go. Let's finish this song before Georgia has our heads."

"Yes, master!" She removed herself from the self-inflicted placidity, leaning over so close to his face she could have taken him then and there. "Just remember, Quincy. The line isn't that hard to go to."