A/N: Thanks to all who favoured and reviewed. You know who you are and we love you for it!! Nearly end of semester! YAYYYY!!!

Quote of the Day:

"I don't know what makes you tick...but I hope it's a time bomb."

"Is he… is he still staring at me?" Hoffman whispered to Jules as he glanced over his shoulder quickly.

Timothy's small blue eyes were narrowed at "Snake" with weak anger. At least it looked like anger. With Tim it was hard to tell.

"Yup. And he's balling his little hands into fists every few seconds, too!" she breathed into his ear as she cast a view at Tim.

They stood outside the wide, two-storey hotel while Amanda pulled bags out of the boot of the car. The sun was beginning to set and the two groups had reunited at a semi famous themed hotel that was situated in what could only be described as a desolate slice of American prairie.

The large building was obviously Gothic in terms of architecture, with large white stone arches that were a dusty peach in the fading sun.

John emerged from the car and stood still until all six pairs of eyes (including Timothy's) were on him, and everyone was silent.

"You will all be sharing rooms again," he began, coupled with a groan of dissatisfaction from everyone. "With Timothy and Peter as our newest additions this means you will all need to choose one other person to share a room with. Think carefully though, as we will be staying here for a week. Make your choice." At the conclusion of this, he disappeared swiftly into the large doors of the hotel, muttering something about the cowboy themed room.

The six of them all eyed each other warily. Timothy was slowly sidling up to the girls, his eyes never leaving "Snake's" face.

Juliet, sensing danger, grabbed Hoffman's hand and dug her nails in with extreme force, eliciting a whimper from him.

Hoffman bit his lip and looked down at the scarily strong brunette. She nodded slowly up at him and released his hand.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in.

"We'll bunk together…babe," he growled, leering at Timothy through Strahm's sunglasses.

Jules breathed a sigh of relief and went off to get her bags, poking her tongue out at Gen, who Tim was eyeing suspiciously.

Oh hell to the no! Genevieve thought while frantically formulating ideas for her escape. These included killing Tim with Strahm's pen and something to do with the hair lackey around her wrist.

Observing the small, fidgeting, redheaded woman in front of him with a look of great entertainment, Strahm cleared his throat and slowly sidled up to her.

Tim had his mouth open to talk when Strahm cut him off.

"Hey baby, mind taking my bag up to the room?" he said, staring down at Tim who had begun shaking and turning a deep red.

"…What?" Gen whispered up at him.

"Just keeping up appearances…or do you want to share a room with the Wonder Bread kid?"

"Ah. Good point!" she looked back to Timothy who was looking between Gen and Jules with a mix of rage and hopelessness.

As the two "couples" peeled off, collected their luggage and moved inside the hotel, Amanda and Timothy were left staring at each other.

"If you talk to me at all," she began her dark eyes unblinking as they stared at him, "I will actually kill you. Slowly and painfully, and then I'll make it look like an accident."

Timothy backed away, grabbed his dorky mustard yellow backpack and ran inside, leaving a grinning Amanda outside to lock the car.

***

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Genevieve shouted as she walked into the high school themed hotel room.

There were lockers instead of a cupboard, a chalkboard feature wall and a queen-sized bed shaped like a huge desk, complete with pencil and notepad pillows.

Strahm ran his hand over his hair and sat on the bed.

"Well… it was either this or the Hannah Montana room," he explained, shrugging his broad shoulders.

Upon hearing this, Genevieve dropped her bags, bolted over to him and hugged him.

"Thank you!" she screamed, squeezing him. She felt Strahm tense up and suddenly realized she was pressing her sizable breasts against him.

In an effort to regain her dignity, she flopped onto the bed besides him in a casual manner. She gave a nervous laugh and patted his shoulder reassuringly.

I really want to screw him now… she thought, rolling over and facing away from him.

Strahm watched her closely for about ten seconds before he looked away, pretending to study the times tables chart on the wall with great interest.

I want to fuck her now...he thought as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

Down the hall in room 206, Juliet was surveying hers and Hoffman's room with a considerable amount of joy.

"I can't believe they have a Witch Queen themed room. Intense…" she remarked, stroking her fingers over the delicate black railing at the head of the bed. She was on all fours, her backside to Hoffman.

"Yeah, great," he mumbled, turning around. He stopped and stared at her, mainly focusing on her butt.

His light eyes widened as he stared for longer, he became transfixed by her curved backside. She was forever complaining about how it looked big in clothing but was secretly proud of its size. He had the sudden urge to squeeze it, but instead he jammed his hands in his pockets.

She settled back on her knees and turned to him.

As soon as her big dark eyes met his, she frowned.

"Are you okay?" she questioned, pulling herself into a cross-legged position further down the bed, nearer to where he stood.

He raised an eyebrow at her and swiftly turned around to continue rifling around in his bag.

"Uh… yeah, I'm good," he coughed, momentarily face-palming himself.

Juliet shrugged and sprawled on the bed, adjusting herself into the 'Fat-Man-Starfish' position.

Her arms and legs were spread out with such languor, her chest softly moving up and down with her quiet breaths. Her eyes were closed and she was biting her lips softly. Hoffman was frozen on the spot, staring at her.

Oh God. Does she have to lie like that, right there? He mused as her small foot tapped the black metal bedpost to a silent beat.

"I have to go… uhm… I need to…" he began, looking from side to side. Juliet sat up and eyed him. She was taking advantage of his cluelessness to get an eyeful of him. Beneath the contempt and argumentative relationship she had with him, she found him most annoyingly attractive.

"…I have to shampoo my llama," he finally finished, exiting from the room with comical speed.

How I want him...she mused, rolling over to trace the delicate black lace on the bed sheets.

***

"Timothy, stop."

"No."

"Timothy, it's rude to stare."

"No."

"Timothy, mind your own business."

"No!"

"Timothy, do as I say or I will hurt you."

"…Fine."

Genevieve sat back in her seat at the large round dinner table, giving Juliet a small thumbs up.

Earlier, John had summoned then all together and lectured them about how, "A family who eats together stays together."

He forgot to mention that "the family" consisted mainly of people who either hated each other or wanted to fuck each other. That fact might have ruined the point of his speech.

So now, here they were, gathered in the grand dining hall. John sat in his chair, totally silent and unmoving.

Amanda was staring wide eyed at her water glass, rocking backwards and forwards, having spent the evening with Tim in their Hanna Montana themed room. Strahm and Hoffman were seated next to each other and between Jules and Gen, engaged in some form of argument over who got the saltshaker first. Gen had the unfortunate privilege of being placed next to Timothy, who would not shut up or stop staring at Hoffman, who he still believed was called "Snake".

Gen stabbed at her chicken maliciously with her fork, her annoyance and frustration building into rage. Finally, just as Hoffman had seized the saltshaker and was attempting to assault Strahm with it, she stood up and slammed her fork down.

All eyes turned to her as she breathed heavily, gritting her teeth.

"Waiter!" She shouted, smoothing down her filmy black blouse. "Bring me a bottle of your strongest liquor… Now!"

She returned to sitting position, raising an eyebrow at Strahm, who had turned to stare at her, his lips slightly parted.

The waiter placed a bottle of absinthe in front of John, who looked up, his eyes lighting with interest in the green liquid in front of him.

"Everyone, I want to play a game," he addressed the group.

They all looked at him, hearts pounding, fear in their eyes, minus Timothy, who was humming and staring into space.

"Wh-what do you mean?" Amanda whispered, looking paler than usual.

"A game, you say?" Genevieve muttered, gulping loudly.

"Yes. I want to play a game…" he said quietly, standing and filling Genevieve's glass with absinthe. "A game of "I Never"."

A collective sigh of relief washed over the group until they realized the possible ramifications.

Timothy sat blithely unaware of the palpable tension, tugging on Gen's arm like a child.

"Gen, Gen, Gen, Gen, Gen, what's I Never?" he inquired, tugging her sleeve once for each time he said her name.

Gen opened her mouth to bite his face off when John sat down, having filled everyone's glass.

""I Never" is a drinking game," he filled his own glass in the process of talking. "We go in turns, stating something like "I've never watched porn". If anyone in the circle has done the action in the statement, they must take a sip of absinthe. The first one to empty their glass wins."

"Oh great!" Amanda muttered sarcastically.

"I'll go first," Gen declared, twirling a curl between two fingers. "I've never… gone to a gay bar," she sipped at her own drink, looking around the circle.

She almost choked as Hoffman took a quick drink from his glass.

"What?!" Amanda cried out.

"Well…" he began as he fidgeted with his glass, "…they have good music."

"I'm suuure!" Amanda teased.

"They do!"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Fucking…my turn!" he announced, searching for something to say. "I've never… had to run down the road naked."

For a second, no one moved until Juliet raised the glass to her lips and sipped, looking from side to side guiltily.

"… Y-you're joking," Hoffman stuttered, his eyes widening at her.

She jabbed him in the side to shut him up.

"I don't get it, is this… alcohol?!" Timothy spat, placing emphasis on the word alcohol.

Everyone turned and stared at him, only relenting when he shrank back into his seat.

"My go," Jules said, leaning forwards. "I've never woken up thinking I was gay." She looked up at Mark with a devious grin on her face. He slowly, slowly, took a drink of absinthe. Just as he put his glass down, two others were lifted from the table.

"Geni?! You're a lesbian too?!" Timothy cried out, slamming his face down on the table.

"What the fu—John?!" Amanda exclaimed, watching as her mentor closed his eyes and took a long sip of alcohol.

"I have an excuse, you see," he sighed, opening his eyes. "The 70's were a time of mass anarchy, panic and confusion. The lines of gender were blurred to the point that almost any one wa—"

"Woah, woah, woah," Jules cut him off. "Basically, Ol' Johnny here was bi-curious."

"No, I was confused."

"Yeah, bi-curious."

"Confused."

"Would you kiss Hoffman?"

"No."

"Would you kiss Strahm?"

"Maybe… anyway. What's Genevieve's excuse?"

Everyone stared at Genevieve, who was in the process of making herself look as small as possible.

"Oh, hi guys! Me? Oh… well… uhm… see…" she sighed and sat up straight. "College was a pretty wild time for me. See, I only fully remember about… two or three weeks of it. The rest I spent sleeping, partying, drunk or all three. So I'm not sure who or what I made out with in that time."

"How did you know you weren't… violated during that time?" Hoffman inquired, staring at her.

"Ah… my foolproof evidence based system," she sighed, sitting back in her chair. "See, I always woke up with my pants on. Brilliantly simple, is it not?"

"Geni…why?" Timothy whimpered, his chin wobbling.

"Oh shut up and drink something," she snapped, pushing his glass towards him.