Hola. Sorry this took so long. I sort of lost the writing bug for a moment there. I'm trying to be better about it. I don't know how successful I will be, but let's not think about that now, shall we?

Anyways, Gigi picked the end of this chapter, so if you absolutely hate it, blame her. And the time difference, which nobody but Gigi is going to get, but whatever.

And I still own nothing but my mind.


"Hey, you going to be okay today?" Alex asks as they navigate around each other in the kitchen.

Addison grabs two mugs and pours coffee into them, handing one to him. "Alex, I'm working at a high school. It's not my first day of kindergarten."

"Sorry."

"I'm not five," she smiles. "But it's sweet that you're worried about me."

"I'm not worried about you," he says.

"You're worried about me."

"I'm not."

"Are too."

"I'm not."

"You are too!"

"And you're claiming that you're not five?"

She glares at him. "I have to go," she announces. And then just to spite him, even though she has a perfectly good cup of coffee in her hand, she grabs his cup and takes a deep drink. And then she grins and strides away before he can react.

0ooo0

Red. Addison wades her way through a sea of red. Red polo shirts, red cardigans, red sweatshirts, red jackets. Here and there a white polo. The navy blue skirts.

Addison had made it through her schooling without a single uniform. And now she's making her way through almost a thousand teenage girls screaming, talking, giggling all dressed in red and blue, the school's colors.

She nearly runs into two girls running through the hallway and avoiding them nearly sends her into an open locker. "Excuse me," she apologizes to the girl she almost flattened.

"No problem," the girl replies, looking up from her search through her backpack. Then she turns away from Addison and shouts down the hallway, "Does anybody have a tampon?"

To Addison's surprise, four different girls quickly proffer the requested item. The girl grabs the nearest one. "Hey, thanks," she smiles. "I owe you one."

"No problem."

"What's your name?"

"Emily."

"Well, thanks."

Addison walks away from the exchange, only to encounter the same scene four more times before reaching her classroom. It's clearly a commonplace thing to see in this land of estrogen. Even the male teachers she sees in the halls don't flinch at the words tampon, pad, or period. She's impressed and wonders how many years it took them to desensitize themselves to the nearly always effective feminine issues.

She manages to find the room and enters warily. She met Mrs. Hunt a few days ago, but that doesn't mean that she's met the students.

"Hello, dear," Mrs. Hunt greets her as she pushes the door open.

"Hello, Anne," she greets the older woman, who would flip if she called her anything but her first name.

"Dear, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to remind me of your name."

"Addison."

"Right. I'm sorry. I've always been bad with names."

Tact tells Addison not to point out that the woman is well over retirement age and has that excuse working for her too. "You're thinking that I'm probably too old to be teaching," Anne accuses her conversationally. "But once you meet the girls, you'll understand. It's difficult to pry yourself away from them."

Addison smiles, but is saved from answering by the small mob of teenage girls that push through the door. "Alright, girls," Mrs. Hunt speaks up. "There's a seating chart on the overhead. Please figure out where you sit."

0ooo0

The break room is empty as she pours herself a cup of coffee. She takes a sip and it's not very good, but she's used to crappy coffee. As she turns to sit down to rest her feet, she sees Leslie heading her way. "Ms. Todd," he says formally. "How has your first day been so far?"

She opens her mouth to respond, but he looks around the room, sees no one, wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close. He leans in to kiss her but lightning-fast reflexes allow her to shove a hand up between their lips. "What are you doing?" she asks, her lips rubbing against the back of her hand.

"Kissing you," he says simply.

"Do you really think that's the best idea? On my first day, Boss?"

"Okay, then," he replies easily. "I'm not kissing you."

"What do you call this then?"

"Very close talking."

Addison laughs and extricates herself from his arms. "Clever. Not happening, but clever."

"Would you like to do some very close talking later?" he questions and she laughs again.

"Maybe, if you come over tonight."

"Your roommate doesn't like me very much," Leslie points out warily.

"Alex? He doesn't not like you. He just doesn't know you," Addison responds, waving away his point with a dismissive flick of the wrist.

"No, I'm pretty sure he hates me."

"He can't hate you if he doesn't know you," Addison sighs. "Come over tomorrow night and have dinner. I'll make Alex cook. You haven't lived until you've tasted his food."

"I don't know," Leslie shies away from the suggestion. Addison shoots him a look that says very clearly if he doesn't agree to it, there will be no talking any time soon, of the close variety or otherwise. "Fine. Okay. But he kind of looks like he could kill me and I kind of think he would if he got the chance."

"Oh, don't be such a baby," Addison snaps. She just wants Leslie, whatever he is, to get along with Alex, who, at this moment in time, she would have to classify as her best friend. And if neither of them are going to make the effort, then, by God, she will make them make an effort.

0ooo0

The next day comes and goes in a blur. Addison gives Alex heads up that he will be cooking for three, and after only slight cajoling, he agrees—although mostly just to get her to shut up. Addison finds herself liking the general din of the classroom. She mostly just sits in back and observes for now, but later she'll start taking the reins from Mrs. Hunt. For now, she's getting paid to sit in a sort of peaceful reverie and that's not bad at all.

"I don't understand why you're so set on me liking Leslie," Alex grumbles as he cracks eggs, having decided that they should have breakfast for dinner and therefore making omelets.

"Because it would just be nice if you could like each other, okay?" Addison replies from her careful perch on the counter.

"Hand me the flour," he orders, gesturing towards the stuff.

"I thought we were having omelets?"

"And pancakes. You can make them, instead of just sitting around and looking pretty."

She pulls her hair lazily up off her neck. "I would have to move to do that."

"Yes you would," he agrees.

"I don't want to," she states.

"Get your ass off the counter and get to work," he commands.

"No."

She stares at him defiantly, daring him to do something about her refusal. He holds eye contact, slips his hand into the flour and then wipes it on her left cheek. Her mouth drops open. "Oh, I know you didn't just do that," she says, eyes widened in shock.

Instead of answering, her right cheek receives the same treatment. "I am going to freaking murder you, Alex!" she practically screams, snatching the flour from him, taking a handful and smashing it in his face. They wrestle over the jar that contains the powder and somehow Alex' arms end up wrapped around her as he tries to grab it from her hands and she tries to prevent that very thing from happening. She reaches in, takes more flour and wipes it on his nose. Before she can get that second hand back onto the jar, he grabs it, overpowering her, and dumps a large portion of it on her head. She whips around and whacks him in the sternum. He grunts as he registers the pain. "That seemed like a good idea to you?" she shrieks, attempting to shake the flour out of her hair.

"Ow!" he exclaims.

She glares. "Oh, you so deserved that."

The doorbell rings before he can respond. She gives him yet another glare and goes to get Leslie.

0ooo0

After the first five minutes, the atmosphere in the apartment becomes tense. And that makes sense. Addison is in the room for the first five minutes and then excuses herself to go wash baking ingredients out of her hair. So then it's just Alex and Leslie. And that's awkward.

"Look, I really do like her. Addison, I mean," Leslie says randomly after a good five minutes of Alex alternately cooking and glaring at him.

"Uh-huh," Alex replies disinterestedly, turning his attention to the stove.

"I mean, I guess she's just different or something. There's something about her." Leslie is just rambling. He's never been very good at silence.

Alex slams the spatula down and turns around. "She's my best friend," he informs the other man. "She's been through a lot. And if you hurt her, I will kill you."

"I won't," Leslie says sincerely, with a little nervous laugh. "I don't want to."

"Uh-huh," Alex responds skeptically.

"I mean that."

"Uh-huh."

Fortunately for Leslie's little one-sided ramble, Addison comes back into the room, her hair still damp from the shower. "What did I miss?" she asks.

"Nothing," Alex says, turning back to the food. "Dinner's ready."

0ooo0

Later that night, Leslie goes home, and Addison and Alex clean up the mess that is their kitchen, then go to sleep. Alex is almost asleep when his bedroom door opens and Addison pads in.

"Scoot over," she commands. He does as he's told and she slips into bed with him.

"What's up?" he asks, slightly groggy.

"What did you think of tonight? Did you like Leslie? Do you hate him? What?"

"Why do you want my opinion?"

"Because," she stammers quietly. "I- I want my best friend to like the guy I'm dating."

He pretends that her statement doesn't warm his stomach just a little. "I think he's a good guy," he answers. "He'll be good for you."

She nods. "Okay." She rolls so her back is to him. "Goodnight."

"You're not sleeping in your bed?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because shut up, Alex. That's why."

And that's logic that he really can't argue with so he closes his eyes and goes to sleep.


So, yeah, if you hated it blame Gigi and the time difference. Not me. (Nothing is ever my fault!)

-Juli-