For the first time in weeks, Leonard found himself eating alone in the academy's mess. Usually John managed to clear his schedule enough to fit in an hour or so, enough time for them to sneak off and have a decent lunch together, swapping gossip as easily as they did their food. Today of all days John had been forced to message him asking for a rain check. Meaning that he would have to break the news of his impending departure sometime this evening just before Scotty dragged him out for a night of classic vids and regrettable choices.

A night Leonard found he was no longer looking forward to now that he knew they would be off-planet so soon. He wanted nothing so much as to order take-out and stay in, letting it go cold while he and John made up for all the time they were about to lose. At least a week if Jim's reckoning was anything to go by. Ten days according to Spock.

Leonard was worried Spock might be right. He usually was.

Scotty had suggested a little pre-mission revelry, just a night among friends with a good bottle of whiskey and a few classic vids before they were back to work again. At Leonard's house, of course, since he was the only one fortunate enough to have neighbors farther away than the other side of a wall and drunk always meant rowdy when it came to Scotty.

His protests had been easily overcome: it wasn't healthy, Jim assured him, the way he had clicked so easily into John's life. Somehow his favorite possessions had all migrated to John's apartment, and he couldn't remember the last time he had slept in his own bed. John monopolized most of his free days too, whether it was taking in the city or stealing a lazy day at home. Sometimes he even allowed himself to be talked into assisting with John's secretive work. Not that it required much convincing, he was curious by nature and lately John's work seemed to place him squarely in Leonard's sandbox: medical research.

Much as he hated to admit it, Jim was right; tonight was supposed to be about his oldest friends, he owed it to them after virtually dropping off the radar for a few weeks.

He had just dipped in to his mashed potatoes when he caught sight of Sulu making his way toward him from across the hall. His usual smile was conspicuously absent, brow clouded with something Leonard would have called 'worry' in anyone else. If Jim had actually managed to rattle their next to unshakable pilot with one of his hare-brained stunts Len was going to have words with him. Words like 'performance review' and 'mandatory leave' for starters.

"Can I have a moment or is there somewhere you need to be?" His expression was stiff, guarded even, no sign of the mischief that usually lit his eyes. This was business then, definitely not good news.

Leonard counted backward from ten, forcing the unease down. Sulu was nothing if not blunt, and if it had been an emergency he would not have bothered with coming to the mess. If it had been an emergency, Jim would have commed personally.

"You can have a few, but as always the 'no shop talk' rule is in effect while I'm eating."

Sulu began to pluck at his sleeve like a guilty child, scanning the hall in a desperate attempt to find another friendly face. His eyes screamed that he would rather have been anywhere else but sitting across from his crewmate while he ate. Obviously whatever business he was on, he had drawn the short straw and now hoped to appease his prey with food and casual conversation.

"If you really need to talk shop I could get you set up for an appointment sometime this-"

"It's nothing serious." Hikaru slid onto the bench across from him, clasping his hands on the table to study the backs like they held the answer to whatever pressing question he needed to ask. At last he looked up to catch Leonard's gaze, disconcertingly intent."I heard through the grapevine your friend-"

"My friend?" Leonard fought to keep his twitching lips from turning up into a smile. He lost the battle when Sulu shot him a reproaching glance, full of frustration.

"He's a Null." Sulu finished, perhaps a tad desperately, giving up any pretense of subtlety.

Brought back to the matter at hand, Leonard frowned. Sulu had never been a fanatical Naturalist. Crueler tongues suggested that since he had lost his Designated at such a young age, he had to hold out hope for someone. But anyone that breathed a word like that near his friends was liable to find themselves shackled to a desk while they nursed a few bruises.

It wasn't something Sulu ever brought up, and he had made it abundantly clear that even friendly interference was unappreciated. This was the last conversation Leonard had ever expected to have with him.

"I don't see that it matters." He tried for a mild tone but it came out as more of a threatening rumble. Between Jim's frequent hints that it was verging on the creepy how quickly he had taken up with John and Jocelyn's enthusiastic relief that he was actually seeing someone, Leonard had had it to his back teeth with commentary on his private affairs. Be damned if anyone was going to guilt trip him for not seeking out his damned-

"I know it's a personal question, but how's it working out? So far."

Sulu's eyes darted away for a split second before flicking back to lock with Leonard's once more, studying him.

Leonard finally gave up any pretense of understanding where the conversation was going. "What's this about?"

"Choosing." Sulu spoke slowly, picking his words carefully, "Choosing Harrison over your Designated. Would you do it again?"

"You know me better'n to think I'd change my mind that easy. As for how it's working, well enough that I'd like to keep it that way indefinitely." Leonard tried for a grin. Clearly his thoughts were moving at a snail's pace today because for the life of him he could not figure out what Sulu was getting at and why it was so imperative that they discuss it now instead of this evening.

He took in the guilty tic, the thoughtful frown, the way Sulu had finally looked away, almost ashamed- and suddenly it made sense.

"Is this about Chekov?" Len murmured slowly, suspicions confirmed when Sulu barely hid a wince. "That's one you're going to have to settle between yourselves. I've told you what I think about all this 'soulmate' nonsense." Leonard cursed his too-quick tongue. It wasn't 'nonsense' to Sulu; he had experienced what it was like to meet his Designated and lose him, all in a brutally short space of time.

It wasn't 'nonsense' that he had grieved and suffered for it.

When he spoke again, his tone was markedly more gentle. "If you're asking for my two cents, I still say sweep him off his feet. Lord knows he's been askin' you long enough."

"He hasn't even met his Designated yet. It just seems irresponsible to…" Sulu gestured to the table between them, managing to convey a wealth of meaning with a few scrambled gestures.

"Chekov is young, not stupid. But you know that and you knew what my answer would be, so why bother asking?" Why now was what he really wanted to say. Chekov and Sulu were the terrible twosome, seldom parted on duty or off. It was no secret that Chekov was hoping it would become something more, it was no secret that 'Hikaru Sulu' wasn't the name on his skin. By and large the crew was supportive, and those that weren't at least had the decency to shut up and mind their own business.

Perhaps with this newest mission looming Chekov had put in for a compassionate transfer? Unlikely, but not unheard of. With the looming prospect of a five-year mission ahead, perhaps they had decided to take a chance and see whether their connection would last. Either way, Leonard wished them the best of luck.

"This thing with Harrison was supposed to be a one-off. Five months later Jim wants to meet your boyfriend because the temperature in hell has to dip below zero before you'll leave him for a night out."

Leonard snorted, acknowledging the implied rebuke.

"So I wanted to know if you regretted it at all." Sulu gestured to his covered wrist.

"Should've asked me about Jocelyn instead." He chuckled humorlessly, pushing vegetables around his plate. Sulu wasn't moving to get up any time soon, still looking tense and a little pale.

"Your ex?"

"My ex." This wasn't a conversation he wanted to have over lunch, but… somehow it stung a little less, knowing that he was going home to someone that gave a damn about him and not the mark on his skin. Might as well give Sulu the worst case scenario, maybe he could even convince him it was worth the risk. Chekov wasn't Jocelyn, and Sulu wasn't him. Then again, he and Jocelyn had years together before their world came apart at the seams.

He took a sip of his water, half wishing it were bourbon, and began.

!

!

!

John's coat fairly reeked of disinfectant, the too sharp, too clean scent of the labs Section Thirty One kept at its lowest level. By now he was used to the imposition of reporting in every quarter; the battery of tests that ran from merely inconvenient to painfully undignified. It was the same exam every operative was subjected to periodically, but John doubted any of Marcus' other 'pets' had quite the same complicated relationship with laboratories and the denizens thereof as he.

Some nights he wondered why it was he did not feel the same spark of rage and helplessness when he saw Leonard don the same uniform.

It was his expressiveness, John suspected. Leonard never wore the mask of indifferent curiosity he had come to associate with the doctors and technicians of his youth. The man was utterly without guile, incapable of pretending the bloody reality of his work left him untouched. That quality was equal parts reassuring and troubling to him. Leonard would never understand what had been done to him, would never forgive what he had done in his turn. Or what he was about to do.

Every minute counted now, every tick of Leonard's old clock a stark reminder that the seconds were running through his fingers like so much sand. He was due in London within the month. Leonard knew, of course. He would think nothing of it when John left that morning to consult with the London branch- rather one lieutenant Harewood, whose only child still stubbornly clung to life despite a grim prognosis. John intended to strike a devil's bargain- the daughter's life for the father's, and the father's for the lives of his crew and comrades.

He would have to leave his comm behind. Leonard would call when the reports first came in, and by then it would be too late to turn back. The farther away Leonard was the safer he would be. Marcus, in his unimaginative way, would assume that Khan's attack was a decision- his crew over his Designated. He would never credit that Khan would risk so many for the sake of one, he could not possibly understand the idea of a family not bound by blood.

It should never have come to this. If he had been more discrete, if Marcus had been less wary or more reasonable, his crew would even now be safely smuggled into their protective capsules within Marcus' prototypes. He could have stayed then, for a time. He could have deluded himself into believing he could manage a permanent arrangement with Marcus, one without the leverage of his crew to keep him in check. There would have been ample opportunity to explain all to Leonard, time to convince him of their bond and ensure that when he left at last it would not be alone.

But he had been discovered, all his carefully laid plans reduced to so much dust. Only now Marcus had yet another hostage, one that could be transferred off-world or to another ship with a flick of his pen. He had reminded Khan of it, taunted him with the possibility of 'commandeering' Leonard's services for his own work, forcing him to confront in the most brutal way who his Designated was. Marcus understood his threat well enough; he was so careful to keep his own daughter from it, shuffling her between branches every time uncomfortable questions came to light.

John was tempted to take her from him; show her the truth of her father and kill her before her father's ever-watching eyes, let him suffer what he had so easily threatened to do first-hand. But that would be no more than spite, and he would have vengeance enough with Marcus dead and his prized ship in Augment hands.

At last John reached the landing of the topmost floor. The hardness about his eyes softened only slightly, his shoulders lifting as he shrugged off the weight of his thoughts. He could hear Leonard moving inside their home, a pleasant cacophony of clanging steel and off-key whistling, his footsteps moving around the kitchen unhurriedly- all of them contented sounds, more pleasant to his ears now than the silence he had learned to live with during his first weeks awake.

Today especially he was eager to be home, their customary lunch canceled for the sake of a grueling interview with Marcus' lapdogs.

The tang of citrus and spice drifted out to him before he even opened the door, the merry sizzle of a pan whose contents were a hodge-podge of whatever had been closest to hand. It wasn't that Leonard enjoyed cooking, far from it, but after a few of the meals John had attempted making himself he had tactfully assumed the lion's share of cooking duty.

In Leonard McCoy's eyes, tact was stating bluntly, "Do you eat like this all the time?" The mute look of mingled dread and determination was enough to warn him that would no longer be the case.

John paused on the threshold for a beat as the door opened, unable to take his eyes from his Designated. He frequently needed to remind himself of who this man was to him, just a reassurance that even if his mark was not visible the bond was still every bit as tangible. He was bent over the stove, too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice the intrusion into his domestic scene. Most days he would wait until John returned before beginning supper, they would move around the kitchen in perfect sync with Leonard seasoning and stirring and John cutting and cleaning, not willing to test his Designated's reflexes against the edge of a knife.

Why he insisted on using steel John still could not understand, but Leonard had brought the knives, and he would notice if they abruptly disappeared.

It was absurd to concern himself with something so small as an accidental graze, but he knew it was the same protective instinct acting on him that made Leonard hiss with dismay when he moved too quickly at his tasks, too caught up in the easy atmosphere to notice how the blades would fly in his fingers-

"Are you just gonna stand there all night?" Leonard turned, smiling lopsidedly. "I'm getting together with Jim and Scotty this evening. They're probably going to take me for every credit to my name, but I wanted to eat with you first."

"A last meal for the condemned?" John tried not to let his annoyance show, but if the softening around Leonard's eyes was any indication, he had failed remarkably.

"I was going to put it off until this weekend, but it's been awhile and they're raring to go. The Enterprise might have actual work this week. We don't want to take a chance on missing out. Besides, I'm guessing you have to be a little tired of my company by now." Leonard shrugged with good humor, turning back to the stove before John could offer a vehement denial.

It was considerably more difficult to arrange his affairs now that he had to work around Leonard's schedule, but it had taken no small amount of subterfuge to keep Leonard content to remain in the apartment rather than returning to his own home. All that effort would be for nothing if his friends convinced him to leave now.

But the fastest way to chase him out would be to cling too tightly. To Leonard this was only the honeymoon period of a new relationship, not a serendipitous twist of fate that had been centuries in the making.

"Will you be back tonight?"

"Not sure. I might just stay over at my place. Something tells me I'll have my hands full with a few boisterous drunks before the night is over."

John slipped in behind him, pressing a kiss to the bare skin at the side of his neck. Leonard let his head tilt naturally, not so much as a cursory effort to protect the vulnerable area. John shivered with a complicated mixture of delight at his easy trust and a sickening wrench of guilt at how soon he would betray it. "I thought I had made it clear you could consider this your home."

"I've been all but incommunicado for nearly a month now. A night out is the least I owe, and time off will do us both good."

Refreshing as Leonard's honesty could be it was also damnably inconvenient when he applied it to himself. The man was entirely too self-aware to be easily manipulated. Khan loved that in him. Most days John did too.

Common sense warned him this was not the time to push. He had already taken a mile for the bare inch Leonard had offered by making him all but relocate into the city proper. Now he would have to compromise or risk an outright refusal.

He should move, make himself useful around the kitchen or change his clothes to something that didn't constantly remind him of where he had spent his day. Instead he tightened his grip, enjoying Leonard's scent and the steady throb of his heartbeat.

"Not the best day?" Leonard murmured sympathetically, leaning into him.

"Routine physical. Nothing demanding, I'm afraid."

"Did everything go alright?"

"Hm." John applied himself to making Leonard forget this particular line of inquiry, letting his hands wander over his hips, down his thighs and back up again. Even now he craved contact, coveted even the thoughtless nudges when they passed too close in the hallway.

With a click Leonard turned the stove off and pushed away, sliding out to put distance between them. "That wasn't really an answer. I don't mean to pry but-"

"I've never cared much for doctors. You are a notable exception." The words slipped from him so quickly John did not even have the time to consider whether it was the right answer, but the light of understanding in Leonard's eyes said it would do.

"We're more than our craft."

"You are." Their conversation was verging into perilous waters and Leonard blissfully unaware. Thankfully he chose that moment to close the distance between them, pressing his weight reassuringly into John.

"I'll take that as a compliment. Maybe I'll even change your mind." A lewd grope and smothered chuckle at John's unintended start lent the words promise. Intrigued, he caught Leonard to him, moving against him suggestively, uncaring if he seemed desperate or undisciplined. This man stripped him of any thought for pride.

For a moment it seemed as though Leonard was going to give in, mouthing at his pulse, tracing over the dips of his cheekbones and down to his lips to take a lingering kiss. His hand tightened, promising everything John craved-

"Dammit, we need to eat. I'm leaving in just over an hour and supper's ready-"

John pressed his lips to the curve of an exposed ear, thumb brushing the soft skin just behind that always threw Leonard a little off balance. "Leave it."

The answering full body shudder was all the agreement he needed.

!

!

!

Leonard had expected Jim would be the first to show, probably all but beating down the door in his enthusiasm. The thought of a mission- even one so inconsequential as a geological survey- had put him in a remarkably good mood. He had started to experience withdrawal after going so long without sitting in his beloved captain's chair. Instead it was Spock's perfectly neutral expression that greeted him as he opened the door, while behind him Uhura appeared to be wrangling a blushing Chekov.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Spock."

"I advised Nyota that you had not extended an invitation, but she insisted-"

Leonard rolled his eyes, grabbing the collar of Spock's shirt to haul him forward. "Get in, and remember that you did this to yourself so I don't want to hear any whining later."

"Vulcans do not whine."

Uhura glanced up, sharing a commiserating glance with Leonard over his shoulder. Vulcans never whined, and the sun never rose in the East either.

"Do we have any champagne? Chekov's got a hot date tomorrow and he'll be here any minute." Uhura cackled as he eeled out of her playful grip, making frantic shushing sounds. Leonard didn't bother hiding his grin; it seemed there had been a point to Sulu's abrupt interrogation after all.

"No champagne, but I think I have some leftover brandy somewhere. Pavel can have juice."

Even Spock managed a slight quirk of the lips at that, though Leonard suspected it was more from the sound of Uhura's laughter than his own attempt at wit.

"Scotty commed. He's running late and Jim is with him." She breezed in, Chekov following dazedly in her wake.

"Overtime?"

"Hm, no. He got an early start on the party."

"Meaning?"

Scotty and Jim. Scotty and Jim together. Scotty and Jim together unsupervised. The first time that had happened, space had ripped. Granted, it hadn't been demonstrably their fault, but each successive time had done nothing to allay his fears.

"Scotty says he has something to show us."

"I think that might not be good." Chekov chimed in, ever the optimist.

"Might not." Uhura had already nested on the couch; Spock had even unbent enough to settle next to her, curling a thoughtlessly possessive arm about her shoulder. She curled into him, resting her head in the hollow there. Anyone who saw them would have sworn that dip in Spock's shoulder had been fashioned for just such a pose; she fit there too well for it be by anything but design. The gesture sent a curious pang of disappointment through Leonard. He knew John's schedule was demanding but it would have been nice if, just once, he could have dragged him along to meet the gang. He reminded himself that time spent working now meant more later that they wouldn't have to share.

"So, what are we watching tonight?"

"Something scary?" Chekov settled on the floor, beaming hopefully.

"I agree." Spock added, snapping out of his adoring haze just long enough to acknowledge decisions were being made.

Of course he did. Much as Leonard hated to disappoint a pleading face like that, he hated even more Spock's incessant commentary on horror films.

"Majority rules here and we're still three short. We'll take a vote when the others get here."

A raucous laugh from outside punctuated his words, one with just a hint of Scotland in it; worse, a distinctly Kirk crow of delight followed shortly after. Despite himself, Leonard was smiling by the time he opened the door, though the sight that greeted him was nearly enough to wipe it from his face entirely.

Scotty was cradling his wrist, grinning like a loon at the skin there- Jim was latched firmly onto his other arm, craning to look at the script… Scotty was a Null. That couldn't just change overnight, even considering what had happened with his own Designation. Nulls didn't just spontaneously develop a mark and meet their mate all in one night. Meaning that-

"You got a tattoo?"

Leonard jumped, startled to find Uhura had pushed past him, gently turning Scotty's wrist to the light. There was nothing in her tone to indicate how unexpected it was, nothing but pure curiosity in her gaze.

"Let me see." Chekov skipped past him as well, crowding into the little group with no sign of self-consciousness. He clapped Scotty a hearty pat on the back, smiling every bit as widely.

It was Leonard alone that had to tamp down on a surge of foreboding. Just his upbringing rearing its head, he assured himself. There were people he knew back home that would have called that tattoo sacrilegious, a profane act perpetrated against the sacred. He hated himself for the jolt of fear that stole his breath for a second. It was a tattoo, and Scotty seemed pleased with it. There was no fate to tempt, and those people Leonard knew were a continent away, probably nosing into someone else's business.

So he swallowed the hateful lump and smiled again, gesturing for Scotty to show him. It didn't surprise him in the slightest to find U.S.S. Enterprise printed lovingly into Scotty's skin, a permanent reminder of all he had achieved and where his heart would always be.

"She's my lady, but I thought I'd make it official this afternoon." His chest puffed out proudly, Scotty hadn't noticed the way Leonard had flinched at first. Jim was watching though, and as always those eyes saw too much.

"Where did you say that champagne was?" Uhura cut in, casting Leonard an expectant look.

He perked up immediately, gesturing everyone inside and making straight for the cabinet where he kept his best drinks: "Not sure I have any, but for this I might have to get some."

"We were looking for champagne? What's the occasion?" Jim chimed in, looking to Spock.

"Ensign Chekov has secured a date with-"

"Finally." Jim cut in, "I wasn't sure how I was going to rig spin the bottle tonight."

"No games tonight, Jim. Vids, drinks, and conversation."

"Please? I have a dare, and I'm sure Spock would be fascinated by an anthropological case study of the phenomenon of sleepover games."

Spock looked like he might actually be giving the matter some thought; Leonard stepped in hastily, wrapping a solid arm around Jim's own: "I'll need your help with the drinks. Uhura, you're in charge 'til we get back."

"Aye, captain." Uhura snapped off a cocky salute, already casting covetous eyes toward the liquor cabinet. Maybe he actually would need Jim's help with the drinks.

"Unbelievable. You call him captain? This is mutiny."

"It's my house, that makes me captain." He nodded toward the reclining chair across the room,"And that is my captain's chair, which I am calling dibs on now."

"Honestly, Bones, you're killing me here."

!

!

Leonard chivvied Jim out of the house before he could protest any more, setting a ground-eating stride that even Jim's long legs should have had a hard time matching. Unfortunately it seemed he still had plenty of breath left to speak.

"You know it's just a tattoo, Bones." His grin of a minute ago was gone, replaced by a concern Leonard hadn't seen in years.

"I know, Jim, I do. Old habits, I guess. I hope he didn't notice."

"I don't think so. You're okay, right? You looked a little green for a second there."

Leonard shrugged, "Fine. It just feels like tempting fate, and I guess I'm more suspicious than I thought."

"Fate? You mean that thing you don't believe exists?"

"Like I said, old habits."

They walked in silence for awhile, Leonard taking in a neighborhood he hadn't seen in what felt like a lifetime, and Jim marching companionably at his side, far too silent for his peace of mind. Leonard eyed Jim cautiously, but didn't press. There was something a little different about him; Jim was always energetic, but tonight his mood seemed almost frantically joyful. That was always the first warning sign with Jim. He tried so hard not to burden his friends and colleagues with his worries, smiled and laughed with the best of them until at last he lashed out- and being Jim Kirk, it was never on the small scale.

"How's it going with your boyfriend?" Jim hesitated over the word, uncomfortable. "I'm a little disappointed we haven't met him yet."

"Sorry, Dad, I'll mention you asked after him when I get home."

Home. His breath caught in surprise at uttering the word so carelessly, but somehow that was what the apartment had become. He felt like a stranger in the house here when he came alone, only the company of his friends enough to save it from being unwelcoming. His room on campus was still cozy at least, stocked with odds and ends and ready should he ever need to pull another all-nighter, but it was John he looked forward to returning to every evening. He sighed deeply, not noticing the way Jim's eyes narrowed with concern.

"So, you're good then?"

Leonard recognized that for the smokescreen it was, and said as much. "I'm fine or you would have been the first to know it. How are you? We haven't spoken in nearly a month; I was beginning to wonder if you had dropped off the face of the planet."

"You were busy."

"I would have made time."

"I was busy." Jim glanced up, drawing a deep breath of air and releasing it in a visible puff. "Getting my stuff in order and all. We could be off-planet by the start of the new year."

"You mean the five-year expedition?" Leonard's gut clenched like he had been punched. He'd been studiously ignoring the infrequent updates about their upcoming mission, preferring to think of it purely in a theoretical sense. Reality hit home hard. This thing with John, whatever it was, whatever it was becoming, probably wouldn't last through such an extended absence. Long distance relationships seldom prospered, he knew.

"It's not official or anything, but that's the time-frame I have right now. And we've got a geological survey this week. I can't wait to get off this rock."

That sounded like Jim, but the look on his face was altogether more conflicted. "You're getting off planet, you have the captain's chair and the ship you wanted, five years to make a name for her… what's not to like, Jim?"

Jim's breath hissed through his teeth, his smile amused and frustrated all at once. "Who said I didn't like it?"

"Your tone, for one." Leonard returned dryly, slanting him a thoroughly unimpressed look, "You're miffed about something, but damned if I can figure out what. I can't help unless you tell me, Jim."

"You've heard that saying about bad things coming in threes?"

"Sure." He responded cautiously, mystified at the turn their conversation had taken.

"Have you ever noticed that it always seems to come true?"

"You expect it to be true, so it appears to be. It's all in your head, Jim."

"Alright, take the opposite. Everything is good right now. Everything is perfect, never been better."

"Agreed. And?"

"I don't know. I just don't think it can last." Jim shrugged, "I keep wondering when it's all going to come tumbling down."

"I'm supposed to be the pessimist here, kid, and even I know that's not how it works- life won't always kick you in the teeth just when it's getting good."

"I know that, I just don't know if I'm ever going to believe it." He smiled as he said it, a self-deprecating but genuine curve of the lips. "But hey, between you and Spock maybe you'll finally convince me."

Leonard recognized that for the ending it was. If he tried to press now Jim would only stubbornly dig his heels in and refuse to listen. If he didn't change the subject, Jim would, and that would inevitably bring the subject back around to John, leaving him heartsick and already a little lonely at the thought of how soon they would need to break things off.

"Chekov and Uhura have already cast a vote for horror-"

"I could go for that."

"And if we're friends, you won't."

!

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Author's Rambling Apology:

This was going to be the chapter where everything went to hell. But then I wanted to work in the last supper (And I *will* be coming back to add smut because that just begs for it) And when things fall apart it all happens fast and it's everything at once. Which means it's taking me for-frikking-ever to write it. The tone shift between this part and that part is substantial enough that it won't feel weird making it two chapters.

With the LSAT and moving, school and HW and I haven't had as much time for this as I would like. But I'm trying to update all my major fics ( Including Odds Against :D )) this month before I really start drowning in work, so...

I'm sorry for the disappointment, but consider this my promise that this fic is still alive and kicking?

Thanks to everyone who's still reading despite the sporadic schedule. You lot warm my heart, and I hope you're still enjoying. :)