A/N: So this is set just after 2.12, post Caleb's heart attack and Marissa and Alex are a couple. The main purpose of this fic is to address the RM issues left over from The Ex-Factor. The more I think about it, the more I believe that a more substantial apology was required from Ryan. No matter Marissa's misgivings, the way Ryan spoke to her was unfair and unjustified. While RM's silent connection where they know what the other intends without any words is something to appreciate and while I love Marissa for her grace and forgiving heart, his words were too cutting to not go discussed on-screen. I get the whole Ryan doesn't like to talk and he shows with his actions etc. but some things just need to be said. So here we go, read and review please! I will be very grateful.

He feels awkward walking Lindsay to the door, the awkwardness cemented by the knowledge that Caleb looms on the other side. At least he doesn't have to stay for dinner this time and that certainly is an awkward ordeal. They arrive before the great wooden door and he contemplates whether he could leave her here and walk away or would that give away his reluctance? Was there even any point in him walking her to the door, he wondered. But she had asked him sweetly and it had seemed like such a harmless thing to do. He observes her smiling face, so filled with optimism as she rings the doorbell. He's glad for her, she deserves this, everyone deserves a shot at a relationship with their parents. The door opens and Caleb stands across him. Within seconds he can feel the waves of condescension coming towards him; he greets Lindsay warmly while offering him a stoic acknowledgement.

"I thought you weren't joining us tonight Ryan." Caleb questions.

"I'm not."

"Then what are you doing here?" he demands.

"We had a date beforehand. I was dropping her off." he replies calmly. "I should probably be going actually."

"Are you sure you don't want to join us?" Lindsay asks him. "I'm sure Julie won't mind."

Oh, I'm sure she will, he thinks silently. And she wouldn't be the only one, judging by the treatment Caleb's giving him.

"Thanks, but it's ok. Besides, I made plans with Seth." he lies quickly. There are no plans with Seth, just a quiet night in the pool house to himself.

"Well ok."

She kisses him briefly on the cheek before walking inside. Just as the door shut, Ryan could swear he saw Caleb staring down at him with ice cold eyes.

"If looks could kill..." he mutters quietly underneath his breath. He had absolutely no doubts about attending this dinner. A combination of Julie and Caleb was likely to be paramountly painful. A part of him felt a little guilty leaving Lindsay to face that alone but there wasn't enough kindness in him to go through this for her. There was nothing that could make such an horrific experience endurable. Then a voice flashed across his mind whispering, well there was one exception. He would have sat through a hundred dinners with Julie Cooper for her if it had made her happy (thankfully it never did). This brief little reflection from a time gone by somehow leaves him in a state of despair. He is happily involved in a new relationship but these memories always made him feel glum and a little sad. He almost concedes that he might miss her.

Usually at this point in his little moments of nostalgia, he would be feeling an outbreak of anger at himself and if he was completely honest, a little bit of irrational anger at her too because she still had it in her to make him care. But no feeling of anger came. Instead he found himself pausing midway to the walk to his car to observe the gigantic mansion behind him. Rows of windows stared back at him, some with their lights on and some stark black. He wondered whether she was home and what she might be doing. She surely wouldn't be at this dinner would she? It was meant to be a 'family dinner' after all. No, he concluded, there wasn't a chance in hell she would have agreed to be there. He stares dumbly at one window, trying to remember if that was her and then like some holy illumination, her voice cuts through the air.

"I'm just leaving the house. I'll see you soon ok." he hears her say, presumably into a phone. When he turns to look at the door and finds it closed, he wonders if he's hallucinating. Then his eyes flicker to the right and there he sees her. Marissa Cooper stands, framed by the moonlight so that her golden dress shimmers in the darkness. Her beauty never fails to be devastating. He notices she's smiling and there's a bounce in her step. When he adds it up with her phone conversation and her fancy dress, he considers whether she has a date. The thought pinches at his heartstrings, even if it's only a little. Perhaps, what's really his undoing is when her eyes finally find him and that dazzling smile evaporates. That hurts.

He should just go, he should have already been gone by now but he cannot move. Not when she's standing before him for the first time in what feels like forever. This is so terribly awkward and he doesn't know how to explain his presence because honestly, he had just been standing there stuck in some half-baked, lovesick daydream about her and yet, he so badly wants this minute with her. A minute's all they can manage now, ever since that night...that God awful night where he so recklessly said, no shouted, those cruel words at her. That night doesn't leave, it stays with both of them, dwelling on their minds before they fall asleep and hovering over their every interaction - not that they interact much anymore.

"Hey." she says cautiously and the smallest of smiles graces her face. He catches the touch of genuineness and his heart flutters lightly. So she doesn't hate him completely.

"Hey." he replies back and hopes she doesn't notice the shakiness in his voice.

"Are you waiting to go in?" she asks walking over to him.

"No," he tells her quickly, "I was just leaving actually."

"Oh."

"I was just dropping Lindsay off." he adds, feeling the need to elaborate so she doesn't think he's some lunatic who randomly lurks in her driveway but then he considers, she had probably worked out the dropping Lindsay part out since she knew about the dinner. He seemed like an idiot either way.

"Well I should be going." she tells him motioning vaguely in the direction of her car.

"Yeah, me too." Then he offers her the most ghastly smile he thinks he has ever given anyone. His lips curve abnormally upwards and it reeks of self-control and forced politeness.

"Bye, Ryan." she says and like a pathetic little boy he watches her go, hypnotised by her graceful walk. His own goodbye is caught somewhere in his throat. There is so much more he wants to say. He wants to tell her he misses her, tell her he is sorry for everything he said, that he didn't mean any of it. He wants to shout at her for ever thinking, even for a second, that their relationship, that she, might have meant nothing to him. And if he was feeling even more extravagant, he might tell her about those infrequent times when he thinks to hell with all of it, lets just have another go at this. Let's kiss and make up and fall in love all over again. It could be easy, they never know. He feels dangerously close to telling her all this but he knows he is not brave enough to go through with it. Instead he walks back towards his car pondering who Marissa's date could be. Their talk had indeed lasted about a minute. Wasn't that sad? But he felt grateful for that single minute regardless. Perhaps that was sadder.

He gets inside the Cohen's Range Rover and takes solace in its leathery confines. No Marissa to hurt him here. He puts the key in and attempts to turn the engine on. The car gives a low grumble but fails to start. He tries again and then again yet still no luck. Frustrated, he gets out of the car and opens the bonnet, staring furiously at the different parts without a single clue about what to do. Behind him, he feels the flash of Marissa's headlights and groans. The car had to mess up on this night of all nights. He hears the thud of a door shutting and the click-clack of her heels as she walks towards him.

"Ryan, is everything ok?"

He takes a moment to compose himself, letting the frustration ease before turning to face her. When he sees her concerned face with genuine worry etched across it, he can't help but give in to it and the composure blissfully fades away.

"No, something is wrong with the car."

She comes closer to stand alongside him, dumbly inspecting the car.

"I'm sorry, I'm not really of much help with these things. The Cohens probably have insurance though, don't they?"

"Um, yeah they do." he replies absentmindedly.

"Ok, then you've got nothing to worry about. You haven't really done anything wrong." He nods along to her words unable to explain that it's not the insurance that's really troubling him. It's more the awkwardness of sitting here waiting for the car breakdown guys to come and the inevitable humiliation when Caleb comes to inspect the commotion outside of his house and sees him there. But how do you explain that without embarrassing yourself in the process? Then she quietly asks him, "Do you want a lift home?"

Well, maybe he didn't have to explain; she knew already.

"Um, what about the car? I can't just leave it here..." he mumbles though, somehow feeling as if her offer's too generous. He doesn't really know why he's protesting when all he wants is to get in her car and get as far away from Caleb's mansion as possible.

"Ryan, the car will be fine, it is a gated community." she points out. "Why don't you just go home and tell the Cohens about it and they can handle it." Then her voice drops so that it's more gentle as she tells him, "Not everything has to be your responsibility."

When he nods back at her, she knows she has won him over but she probably didn't realise that there wasn't much of a battle there. She strides over to her car, confident that he'll be following her and sure enough when she turns to check, he's standing meekly by the car door.

"Thanks." he says to her, to which she just shrugs her shoulders as if this is the most natural thing to do. It is an obvious gesture in many ways but a drive to the Cohen residence together was going to be the first time they were going to be alone together in a very long time.

Once inside her car, he shifts uncomfortably in the plush leather seats. He feels like an intruder in her car, an intruder in her life more to the point. She casts him a side glance questioning his behaviour and suddenly it feels foolish to be tense and worked up about a simple ride home. The engine starts, she puts the radio on and the car roars out. She's got the roof down so the wind whips against his face, causing his over growing hair to flap mindlessly. When he looks briefly to his side he sees how her own her hair, though a little shorter than last year, blows gracefully in the night air. He leans further into his seat, no longer worrying and simply taking in her presence; it shocks him how calming her presence is when he lets it be. So calming in fact that he forgets that he's staring wistfully at her without caution. When she tilts her head and their eyes meet, he's about to jerk his head away but then he thinks that would make it more obvious. Instead he keeps his gaze fixed, no doubt going a terrible shade of crimson in the process but it's dark and so she probably won't notice. She gives him a look composed of a half-smile and half-confusion which he finds so endearing. He answers her with an embarrassed smile of his own before finally turning his face forwards because he knows it's a dangerous matter to be looking into Marissa Cooper's captivating eyes for too long. He can't help feeling though that their brief interlocking of gazes had been reminiscent of the old days and with an anxious pang, he noted how much he had enjoyed it. Somehow, when any another girl looked at him it was never nearly as exhilarating as when she did it. Caught up in his thoughts, he didn't notice the music being turned down followed by Marissa auspiciously clearing her throat.

"So, how come you aren't at this dinner tonight?" she asks him but the wind muffles her voice and his concentration was scattered.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"How come you aren't at this dinner tonight?" she repeats again, this time louder.

He looks at her, a knowing grin on his face as he tells her, "The same reason you're not there." When she laughs at his answer, he adds, "What? Are you telling me you weren't asked to attend this family meet and greet?"

"No, I was asked, although I don't think Caleb really wanted me there."

"Hey, I don't think he wants me there either."

"Yes, but the thing is I'm the rebellious daughter hellbent on making my mother and Caleb's life a living nightmare. It would be bad for my reputation if I ever agreed to do anything for either of their sakes. But you, however, are the good, caring boyfriend," and here she pauses for a second to throw him a look to tell him there's no point in denying it because she knows better, "so the question is, why have you left your girlfriend alone to face Satan and her equally formidable husband?"

She gives him a teasing glance and he manages a chuckle at her lighthearted summation.

"Well..." he begins searching for the honest answer, "let's just say that there are some evils which are just too much."

"I guess you've got that right." she agrees.

"And Lindsay seemed ok about the whole thing. Besides, everytime I'm there, I just seem to make things worse. Caleb and I always seem to be getting into a fight about something."

"Hmm, that pretty much sums up my relationship with him."

He pauses for a second, considering whether he should go ahead and tell her what he had in mind. Perhaps it is some violation of his girlfriend's privacy but the conversation is too easy with her and so it slips out effortlessly.

"They're thinking about adoption." He notices her raising her eyebrows at the revelation. "Don't tell anyone, no one else -"

"I can keep a secret." she tells him before he can complete his sentence. The minute she assures him, he thinks it was silly to have doubted her; they have, after all, confided in each other from the very beginning.

"It's nothing concrete yet, but I think they've talked about it, even if only briefly."

"Wow. Does she know what she's getting herself into with Caleb?"

"No, I don't think she does. And if I say anything to her, she's just going to be upset with me."

She rolls her eyes at how typical it is for him to be so concerned but when she starts to speak to him, there's no hint of teasing.

"You know you can't do anything. It's not down to you whether things with Caleb work out, so there's no point in beating yourself about it."

"I know, it's just...it is what it is."

"Maybe Caleb won't be a dick." she suggests leading a snort to escape from Ryan's mouth. "That or formally meeting my mother tonight might scare Lindsay off."

"That is quite likely."

The conversation ends there and Ryan realises how much he misses their little talks. However, somewhere in that nostalgia he also has this gnawing sense of guilt. He has just spent the last fifteen minutes talking to his ex-girlfriend about his present predicament with his current girlfriend. And Marissa, as irritatingly as ever, has been reassuring, helpful and beyond considerate. He observes her profile once more from the corner of his eyes and he thinks about all her kindness which never gets returned.

"How are you doing...with all of it? With your mom and Caleb and your dad going." He speaks slowly and hesitantly, unsure of whether he has the right to enquire anymore. He notes the she seems surprised by his asking. She takes her time to reply, collecting her thoughts because this is the first time she has had to answer the question. No one else had bothered to check.

"I'm, I don't know to be honest. I miss him and I still can't stand living in that house but I spend most of my time out anyway. I guess, I guess I am coping."

There's a lot she doesn't tell him, like how her life at present is nowhere near the hell it was this summer without him there. Or how ever since she started dating Alex, she has felt happier and freer. She has been getting used to this new life she has been handed this year but even with all the promise that her relationship with Alex presents, she can't shake the feeling of incompleteness. Her eyes only need to flicker to her side to tell her what is lacking but there's no point in dwelling on that. He is over her, she knows that with confidence. But her confidence is misguided; as he listens to her now and hears the resignation in her voice, he can feel his heart break. He thinks back to right before the summer, when the wedding was coming up, and they had lied on his bed and he had told her that he would be with her through all of it. Everything would be ok, he had promised and she had kissed him eagerly and believed every word he had said. He had believed it too. And then Theresa happened. He left and then he came back and things had changed beyond alteration. Now he couldn't even reach out to touch her hand or arm, let alone take her in his arms and console her till all her worries felt insignificant. The thought is so bleak and her pain is so agonising to consider that's he is desperate to change the subject.

"Where are you going tonight?"

Once again his question takes her by surprise. Perhaps that's because they rarely talk now and when they do, she usually initiates the conversation.

"Just the bait shop."

"Oh, which band is it?"

"I don't actually know." She stops, hesitates for a second and then adds, "I was just going to hang out with Alex."

"Alex?"

"Yeah, we've been um," She bites her lip unsure of how to proceed. "We've been friends ever since -" The halt in her speech sets in a nervous tension as she remembers the night when they had become friends, drinking cheap beer and watching old horror movies. The same night Ryan had confirmed every worst fear she had about their relationship and shattered any notions of romanticism. She told herself now, as she did so often, there wasn't much point in thinking about it. After all, it would always end up in that same pattern of wondering what she had meant to him before concluding he probably regretted the relationship and then ending her thoughts with an onslaught of vodka and tears. Contrary to what her mother might think, she didn't enjoy being miserable and sullen all the time. So she quickly brings the memory of that night to a close as she finishes, "Yeah, we have become really close actually."

He doesn't respond and she doesn't bother to check. They're both stuck in that halt in her speech which had unravelled and undone the many memories they falsely thought they had left behind. The gates to the Cohen's house come on to the horizon and Marissa breathes a little sigh of relief. They only need to manage a few more minutes before they can send each other their polite goodbyes and return to their now separate lives. Once apart, she can keep moving forward. There should no longer be these moments of reflection which are only cause for hurt. Marissa ignores the fact that this is an idealistic expectation which she has so far not been able to fulfill. She also ignores how badly she would rather not say goodbye to him. Even after all this time, the perfect future which she imagines for herself still features Ryan standing by her side. Once this had been the future she expected, now it is a fantasy. When she finally brings the car to rest, she realises that she is utterly exhausted. She runs a tired hand through her hair waiting for Ryan to leave but he doesn't move. She knows then what's coming next. She's about to protest, tell him to forget about it and that this isn't the time for it or she isn't in the mood but he's too quick and she's too slow.

"Look Marissa, I've been meaning to say this for a long time now." he begins, looking at her intently, hoping that she knows how serious he is about this conversation.

"We don't have to do this, you don't have to do this."

"No, but I do." She doesn't protest back but her eyes remain downcast avoiding his prying eyes. He figures this is probably his best shot. "I'm so sorry for everything I said that night. I was unfair, it was wrong of me to accuse you like that in public. I didn't mean to...I didn't want to hurt you. I felt, I feel awful."

"You feel awful." she scoffed. Her voice had been calm and steady but it did little to hide the bitterness and vulnerability that was lurking underneath. It made him wince uncontrollably. She ran another tired through her hair and took a deep sigh. "I'm sorry. I know you would never intentionally hurt me and I believe you when you say you're sorry. I believed you the first time, so could we just forget about this?"

Her request is simple and he would like to forget as well but they both know it is far from being that simple. If it was, he wouldn't be having this conversation now. Even after apologising properly this time, his heart still feels constricted. There is more he needs to clarify.

"You know I didn't mean any of it. What I said, it didn't even come close to how I really felt."

"So our relationship was that bad." She's only joking but there's cynicism mingled with the humour in his voice. Perhaps in another setting, when the atmosphere was less strained, he would have laughed and she would have giggled at her bad joke. Right now, when he views the guarded girl before him, there isn't a trace of a smile on his face. His voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks.

"Do you really think our relationship meant nothing to me?"

"I don't know what to think." She pauses and then to his surprise, she turns to face him. "I didn't used to think so and I never doubted you when we were together. I still don't really think you regretted being with me when we were actually together. But...it would make sense if you regretted it now though. Most of what you said that night was true. I did bring a lot of unnecessary drama into your life and my life is a mess."

Her words are honest and in being so, heartbreaking. He trembles slightly; he isn't sure whether it's her words or due to the prolonged eye contact.

"I could never regret what we had. If there's anything I regret, it's making you ever think I could." He wonders if he is helping at all, her forlorn expression makes him think otherwise. "You don't believe me?"

"No, I do, it's just," she purses her lips debating whether to continue. She shuts her eyes and thinks to hell with it, there's not much damage left for them to inflict. "It's just that, I think I know you quite well Ryan and it's not like you to lose your temper and just say something in the heat of the moment, which you don't entirely believe. I don't know, or maybe I just don't know you as well as I think I do."

"When I said," and he winces at the prospect of recalling this memory, "that 'you spent all of last year dragging me down', I didn't meant it exactly like that. I was angry and frustrated at the time. A little bit because of what had happened with Lindsay, quite a bit of it had nothing to do with you altogether but a lot of it was because I was upset to see you drinking. Seeing you do that, it just reminds me about my mom and...you know how it goes."

She listens to him carefully and remembers last Christmas and how upset he had been. For the first time since they had begun this conversation, she nods as if she truly believes him. Softly, she tells him, "I know." and then he finally feels that she understands. At least part of it, enough not to look at him as if he has both disappointed and confirmed every expectation she had about him till all there was left was an ugly portrait of him. Tentatively, he reaches out to touch her bare shoulder, where her skins feels silky and electrifying beneath his fingers. He looks at her with extreme sincerity and tells her seriously,

"You meant a lot to me too and you still do. I don't think that will ever change."

She purses her lips, taking in his words and that beautifully burning feeling where his hand rests on her shoulder. The intimacy is startling and it remains for longer than she anticipates. For a moment, she almost wonders whether he might kiss her. For a moment, he thinks he really might. Then as always, the trance is broken as he recalls his girlfriend and she thinks casually about hers. He jerks his hand away and stumbles out of her car. He stands, bouncing on his feet out of agitation.

"Thanks again for the ride."

"No problem."

She starts the ignition and he should leave but there's just one last question he needs to ask.

"Marissa, you don't hate me, do you?"

She smiles gently and it's not sardonic or depreciating.

"No, I don't hate you. I probably never could."

They don't say goodbye this time and their relationship seems a little less distant. As her car races back out of the driveway and disappears into the teeming darkness, he wonders if he had kissed her, would the distance have been closed altogether.