A/N: Sorry for the unintentional hiatus. My intention had been to update still while there were no new episodes. I couldn't get this chapter the way I wanted it, but the new episode this week got me going again. Apparently, I need new episodes in order to write, since I have been working so hard to keep this stupid story with the show. As far as the timeline goes, this chapter takes place shortly before "Woke Up Dead" (this week's episode).

I woke up in an odd, cramped position, lying on my back with a terrible kink in my neck from my head being propped on the arm of the couch, without a pillow. My left arm was asleep. Savannah was half on top of me, lying on her side, using my arm as a pillow, which I imagined was only marginally more comfortable than the arm of the sofa, but she didn't seem bothered.

The TV was the only light and infomercials flickered. Someone had turned off the lights, picked up all of my beer bottles from the table, and also thrown a light blanket over Savannah. They couldn't give me a pillow?

I rubbed my head with my right hand, which still had feeling. What time was it? Still dark. How many beers did I have? I know we ended up watching some God-awful Steven Seagal movie and made it into a drinking game. I must've only been asleep for a few hours, and I had one of those "if I had slept longer, I would have slept through this headache" headaches. I wanted a glass of water. The kind soul who cleaned up and left the blanket could have left a glass of water. Shit, I was being awfully judgmental of the kind soul.

Now what the fuck was I supposed to do? Do I wake Savannah up and send her to bed? Do I suffer through my discomfort to quasi-spoon her in her sleep? Do I get up and get water and come back? Assuming I don't want her up in the process?

My mind wondered to whomever turned off the light and deposited the blanket as I shifted down just slightly, careful not to disturb her. I got my neck out of the terrible position and I looked up at the changing light on the ceiling.

Fuck it…

I rolled slowly onto my side and draped my arm lightly over her. She didn't stir in the slightest. I touched her arm and still no response. I pulled her a little closer, pressing my body to hers, nestling my face just slightly in the back of her neck. I pretended for a moment that she was aware of this, and then I realized that it was a little rape-y. Then that thought made me feel bad. I felt shitty for thinking it, for comparing my relatively innocent spooning to a sexual assault. Shit. Girls cuddle all the time. It doesn't mean anything, but who knows what it means in her home-schooled nut head.

I'm sure I only did this for about a minute before I felt some feeling that was sort of like anger. I don't know at whom. I nudged her, "Savannah, wake up."

She groaned a little.

"Savannah, wake up and go to your bed. You're on my arm."

"Five more minutes."

I grabbed her shoulder and shook her, "Get up."

"What time is it?" She blinked and rolled over to look at me.

"Not sure. There are infomercials on. We fell asleep on the couch."

She didn't seem to notice how close we were or particularly care. She may have still been asleep, "No wonder I was dreaming about not being able to complete simple household tasks…"

"Get off my arm."

She blinked again and sat up, "Sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep on you."

"It's ok." I poked at my numb arm, dreading the needle feeling as the blood flow returned.

"I still feel drunk. How much did I drink?"

I shrugged, "What a terrible movie."

"I know…" She rubbed her eyes and then squinted at me, "Did we cuddle?"

"Eh, you were mostly laying on me."

She laughed unexpectedly, "Awkward."

"Yeah," I agreed confusedly, still poking at my arm.

"I'm going to bed now," she got up and headed down the dark hallway, "Goodnight, Marti. I had fun tonight."
"Did you really?" I asked. "Without Dan?"

"Yes, without Dan." She stopped and turned, "I'm sorry for being annoying, I really am. I just…I thought that was what I was supposed to do…"

"You are, in middle school."

Savannah made a face that I couldn't really see, "I wasn't allowed to date in middle school."

I stifled a laugh, "Just be yourself. I'll be in, in a minute. I just need to drink some water, so I can function at practice."

"Ok." She disappeared into the shadows.

As I got up I shook my arm in an attempt to get it to function. I was starting to feel my fingers again. I grabbed a glass and filled it up in the sink. I sighed and turned to lean my back on the counter and drink it. When I turned, I saw someone in the darkness on the other side of the kitchen. I jumped and gasped, but managed to keep quiet.

"Jesus Christ, Alice…" I mumbled as she stepped forward.

She crossed her arms, "Marti Perkins, what're you doing up?"

"I was asleep on the couch and I'm getting some water before I relocate. You?" I sneered.

"I'm not your enemy, I'm really not. Who do you think picked up after your drunk ass and gave you two a blanket?"

"Let me guess…you?" I drank some of my water.

"You two were passed the fuck out when I came in."

"Thanks. What're you getting at?"

"Kelsey has been encouraging my investigative skills."

I raised an eyebrow, "The reporter?"

"Yeah."

"God, you found someone that positively reinforces your fucking being nosy and prying into peoples' lives."

"I'm good at it. We're going to work on a expose on athletes cheating at Lancer."

I drank more of my water, "Do you want to talk to me about this or what? I don't understand what you're doing right now."

"Investigating."

"Me?" I rolled my eyes.

"We're not going to write an article on you or anything unless you turn out to be super interesting. I'm just curious…nosy, if you will. You're a personal project."

I finished my water, put my glass in the sink, and walked past her, tiring of the conversation. As I walked away, I said, "I don't care what you call it, it doesn't change the fact that you're fucking nosy and need to leave me alone."

"The more secretive and bitchy you are to me, the more interesting you are, Marti. Keep that in mind."