A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry for the very long wait for this chapter, I had so many papers due last week, I have papers due this week, and I have more papers due next week. *sigh* #CollegeLife

CHAPTER 11

"Okay…" Wednesday flipped the page. "Continue."

"Here, here I will remain with worms that are thy chambermaids," Dandy took his water bottle and sat on the new bean bag next to hers, a cozy touch to the bus. "Oh here will I set up my everlasting rest, and shake the yoke of inauspicious stars—"

"Inauspicious," Wednesday corrected. "No emphasis."

"Right—inauspicious stars from this world-wearied flesh." Dandy continued. He turned to Wednesday to practice his facial expressions, and on cue she turned to look at him. "Arms, take your last embrace. And, lips. O you the doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss, a dateless bargain to engrossing death."

He kissed Wednesday lightly on the forehead. "Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavory guide. Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on he dashing rocks thy seasick, weary bark. Here's to my love!" He takes a swig from his bottle. "O, true apothecary. Thy drugs are quick. Thus, with a kiss…I die."

Wednesday clapped. "Good, good. But memorize, Dandy. This morning's practice was awful."

"I know." Dandy grumbled. "How am I supposed to remember my lines when Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee are so distracting?"

Wednesday sighed dramatically. "Oh Dandy, do you really think when we perform on stage everyone will fulfill their duties and only stare at us?" Dandy shook his head. "Of course not. People stand, take a piss, mutter loudly—and it's our job to pretend like we don't care and keep moving."

"Have you been doing that your whole life?" Dandy asked bitterly. "Pretending?"

"Well, life is a stage." Wednesday said haughtily. "And I, for one, happen to play my role perfectly."

Dandy sniggered at her haughty reply, her nose in the air. Wednesday scowled as she picked up a throw pillow and threw it at him. "What?" Dandy laughed.

"It's true!" She said stubbornly. "In fact, I can pretend like I don't care for weeks!"

"Really?" Dandy taunted. Standing up, Dandy turned his back to her as he pulled Mr. Clown's mask over his face. He turned back to her with a dead look in his eyes. "Aren't you afraid?"

Wednesday stared blankly, as if she were entertaining the whims of a child. "Afraid of what?" She asked innocently. "But I suggest you should get that washed first."

Dandy pulled out the knife he gave her, holding it up menacingly the way he did to Dora. And just like Dora, Wednesday didn't do so much as flinch. "Scared now?"

Wednesday widened her eyes. "Of what?"

Dandy trudged toward her and fell on his knees just by her legs. With his free hand, he placed a soft hand on her leggings and brushed upwards, stopping just by her navel. He leaned in forward, his face just inches away from hers. He lightly brushed the tip of the blade against her neck, clutching it tightly as he felt his hands shake. "Not at all?" He asked, his eyes on the knife.

In reply, Wednesday stared intently at him as she slowly took the knife by the blade, fearless of getting sliced. Dandy loosened his grip on the knife and with one graceful flip Wednesday now held it, pointing at him. "Scared of what?"

The intensity was more than either could take. Dandy pulled her closer and at the same time she pulled him downwards, and he struggled in haste to pull of his mask before planting his lips on hers, sending shivers and volts down his back. Dandy felt the flat of the blade press against his back as she pulled him closer.

Wednesday flipped the knife again and expertly flung it to the side without looking and heard the sound of a sharp hit on the side of the bus. It had been ages since she had felt this way about someone, and scratched her nails against the bus' floor and felt the shiver of metal scratching and the passion and heat of the moment. She felt her heart pound, like it had been thawed out of years upon years of reminding herself not to fall in love with every male co-star she kissed. A thought passed that they were only passionate because of their matching desire to shine, and as soon as the curtains went down on their final play it would go downhill from there. But for some reason, she didn't care. Groaning at the mixture of the cold evening night and the heat of their passion, Wednesday grabbed his shirt, tearing away the buttons with a sudden pull.

At that moment, Dandy felt it once more, only more powerful. It was more addictive than hacking at a person and hitting their rib and just as potent as their drunken encounter in his playroom. It was just like the first time they were intimate, only a thousand times more…real. He had never known another girl like this, but instead of reaching for her neck and strangling her at her most vulnerable moment, Dandy pulled her top over her head and slipped his hand behind her back just behind her bra as he pulled her further, straddling her, as though some instinct that had been long suppressed had been awaken. It was not the thrill of vulnerability, or the lust for someone who was practically his equal. It was something more, much more.

"Wednesday," Dandy groaned as he instinctively trailed his kisses down to her neck. He wanted to say it out loud, hesitant that he forgot how to pronounce the word "I—oh God—Wednesday, I l-lo-lov—"

They stiffened, frozen as a blink of light and the sound of a shutter heard.

"Ooh, kinky." They heard a familiar irritatingly high and overly southern voice. Caught in her most vulnerable, Dandy saw Wednesday wince for the first time. He turned her head to glare at the person standing by the door.

"Smile, Romeo!" Isabella Knightley squealed as Dandy turned. Seconds later, the Polaroid film went out the camera. "Gee, I wonder what Mr. West—and the rest of Jupiter, for that matter—will think about Dandy Mott and Day Hale hooking up in the crime scene of that murdering clown!"