Author's Note: Yay, it's the next chapter! This chapter has been written for a VERY long time, and I'm so excited to be putting it out finally. :) This story is gonna get real fun soon. You'll see why.

Thanks for the shitload of love last chapter. Especially radgreasers. Dang, you are a truly devoted fan. Not that the rest of you aren't! But RG came in and reviewed every chapter. Keep it up!

Happy reading. :)

XXXXX

The first snowfall came on November eleventh. It was white and beautiful, even if it didn't last long, and it definitely didn't stick. Time to pull out the winter clothes. Stockings and mittens and hats and coats and all my holiday dresses. Those dresses came in bright reds and rosy pinks and smooth greens and deep navy blues. Velvety and soft and sparkling. I had a soft spot for Christmas. Maybe because I loved dressing up for all the parties my father dragged me to.

And, uh, maybe I was hoping I'd get invited to some too. By my friends, I mean. And people who aren't my friends. Anyway, Christmas was still a ways off, and I've never heard of a Thanksgiving party, so I had no need to pull those things out for awhile.

I dunno what it is about faculty parties, but even though I'm around stuffy academics who have nothing else to talk about except the function itself and their curriculum, there's still something electric about them. Maybe it's because they're not about school and classes and discoveries and what have you. They're about these people coming together to celebrate the fact that we're all... Just here. And you can pretend for a moment that everyone is okay with each other.

Funny how that all changes once the new year comes.

Funnier yet is how after 1967 was rung in, I no longer had to pretend that I liked Two-Bit Mathews. It was 100% real. A friendship blossomed, and my life got hectic. And it wasn't because of a crime, no. It was because of what I had gotten myself into, what decisions I had made and where they would take me. And I still don't know yet where I'm going to end up.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I still have to tell you about the letter, our meetings, and my last connection to Dallas Winston.

It went something like this:

I'm leaving the lunchroom one day, headed towards my locker, when Two-Bit sees me, smiles, and approaches me.

"I have to ask a favor of you," he said. I glanced around myself, then back at him. He looked very tired. There were obvious bags under his eyes, swollen and purple. And I could detect the faint smell of liquor on him, but I'd heard it wasn't unusual for this one to go on a bender every now and then.

"What sort of favor?" I asked. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"I was hoping you could meet me after school."

I narrowed my eyebrows. "To do what?" His face fell.

"I got somethin to give you," he said. I snorted.

"A little early for Christmas presents, don't you think?" Two-Bit chuckled.

"That may be so, Miz Bee, but better early than never, amiright?"

"You are."

"So meet me then. I'll be here in the school parking lot at seven. Think you can be there?" He asked.

I stared at him, trying to walk as well. He was serious, his eyes told me so.

"I guess I could be," I whispered. Two-Bit grinned.

"Good deal. See ya then."

And then he quickened his pace, separating himself from me.

And that's when I remembered that I had made plans with Jerry that night.

Dammit.

I spent the rest of the school day in a daze, trying to figure out how to explain to Jerry that I wouldn't be able to make it. What would I tell him? Something suddenly came up? That Two-Bit Mathews had to give me something? I eventually decided I could play the dad card, tell him that I had to go to a school function with him. Yeah. That'd probably fly real well. It's plausible; I mean, my dad wasn't about to go to one of those things alone, no! He's dragged me to a million functions and conferences before. Of course, the only real conference occurring tonight is the one Two-Bit and I will be holding.

I was walking from drama to study hall when I saw Jerry talking to Randy and another one of their football buddies. I saw my chance and took it, running up to him and wrapping my arm through his.

"Hey, Bridget," he grinned real big at me. I grinned back.

"Hey, Jerry! About tonight..."

XXXXX

I arrived at the school parking lot at six fifty-five, the sun already going down. The air was cooling off too. And there was Two-Bit, sitting on the steps of the back entrance smoking a cigarette. I parked and stepped out of my car, walking quickly towards him.

"Hey."

Two-Bit looked up and flicked his lighter shut. He took a drag off his cigarette.

"Well hey. I thought you was never gonna show up."

I shook my head. Even from my distance, I could smell the overwhelming aroma of beer and cheap cologne that seemed to stick to Two-Bit all the time. It's a scent etched into the back of my mind, and I could recognize it anywhere.

"So," I began. "What did you want to see me about?"

Two-Bit smiled and reached into his pocket, producing a piece of paper that had been folded over a couple times. I carefully took it from his hand.

"Buck had us clean out Dallas' old room, and when Steve, Soda, and I were goin' through it, we found that." He took in a shaky breath, the cigarette between his lips starting to tremble. "Ain't sure why, but it was there. And your name and someone else's name is on that... I dunno if you know her though. I just saw the names... I dunno what it's about."

I raised my eyebrows. Who else could it be? I mean, if Two-Bit even has a slight notion that I might know her...

"What do you mean?" I wondered. Two-Bit looked down at his feet.

"Ah, well, I think I've heard that you run in the same circle as her. And I know you better than her... So. Yeah."

So that basically narrowed it down to Marcia, Penny, Missy, Vickie-

And Cherry. Who else could it be?

Oh god, what would Dallas Winston have to say about Cherry and I?

Two-Bit started wiping at his eyes. Concern bloomed in the pit of my stomach.

"Thanks, Two-Bit," I said.

"No problem."

He just stared at the ground, scuffing his boots against the pavement. The snow swirled around a nearby streetlight, sparkling lightly. The flakes fell to the ground, and my eyes followed them. Two-Bit coughed.

"You okay?" I asked.

"I will be." He coughed again. I heard him flick open his lighter, and then he flicked it shut once more. "Prolly just comin down with somethin."

"I didn't think smoking and being sick mixed too well," I admonished quietly. Two-Bit shrugged.

"I ain't sick anyways. Coughs don't count as sick," he protested. I laughed humorlessly.

"Oh yeah? What if you got pneumonia or something? Does that count?"

"Well sure it does. But I ain't got pneumonia."

"Yet." I sighed.

It suddenly felt very cold. I was stupid for coming without a jacket. I thought I'd just drive out, meet with Two-Bit briefly, and drive home. But no, I had stepped outta the car, and we were having a conversation now. I rubbed my arms in an attempt to keep warm.

"Why didn't you bring a coat?" Two-Bit asked. I shrugged.

"I thought this would go faster." Two-Bit laughed.

"Not with me, sweetheart. I can run my mouth like nobody's business. I thought you knew that. Here," Two-Bit shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. "You'll catch your death."

I fingered the black leather jacket. It was rough and it smelled exactly like Two-Bit: Cologne, beer, and cigarettes. And it was the best thing in the world just then. But I couldn't let him do that. I started to take the jacket off.

"Hey hey hey! Don't even think about it! I don't need it," Two-Bit scolded. I shook my head.

"Yes you do. You're sick, you need it."

"I ain't sick!"

"Oh, yes you are!"

"I ain't takin' it, Stevens!"

I took a step back, and I shrugged the jacket back on, letting Two-Bit's essence envelope me. He smiled smugly.

"You're quite the gentleman, Two-Bit," I whispered bitterly. He smiled and fingered a hole at the bottom of his t-shirt.

"Yeah, that's what my ma tells me."

I stared at him with my mouth open. I tried to keep the smile off my face. I really did. But it just happened. Two-Bit laughed, his grey eyes mischievous.

"You're a hard one to crack, Miz Bee," he teased, talking about my resistance to laughing at his joke.

"No I'm not," I insisted.

Two-Bit kept on laughing, getting louder as he went on. I tried so hard not to laugh with him, but I couldn't help it. It's contagious, just like whatever he might have contracted. There was no reason to really be this happy, except maybe the fact that I acted like I had a broom up my ass all the time, and we were both just relieved to know that happy was possible for me. Two-Bit doesn't have to think twice about happy. Happy is natural.

"Do you think... I'm a happy person?" I asked between laughs. Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow, smirking.

"Yeah, yeah I do. I mean... Yeah."

"Oh," I muttered, our laughter dying down. "I just thought... I dunno."

Two-Bit looked at me funny, with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He let out a long breath.

"Happy is good, kid. Happy people ain't posers, they just got more perspective than your average bear," Two-Bit clarified. I stuttered.

"I-I know, Two-Bit. That's not-"

"Just keep that in mind," he interrupted, "next time you think you can't be happy. It ain't a sin."

I nodded mutely.

"I'll keep it in mind."

"Good. Be sure to read that for me."

"I will. I should probably be getting home now."

"Yes. You should."

"Yeah," I drawled, shrugging off his jacket. Two-Bit put his hand up.

"No. No. Keep it for now. I'll be good."

XXXXX

I sat on my hands backstage, taking deep breath after deep breath. Today was the day I was auditioning for the spring musical, and I was plenty nervous. It had finally been announced that the musical would be a production of Anything Goes. I remember seeing that in an off-Broadway production when I was twelve. Dad took me. And it was spectacular. Eileen Rogers' interpretation of Reno Sweeney was something to truly aspire to. But, somehow, I was ready to take that challenge.

We were in the process of giving our performance pieces right now. Some girl I didn't know was making a fool of herself right now, and I was next. Sylvia Capoletti was there too, sitting a few chairs down from me

I thought about what Sylvia must be feeling, how Dallas' death must've affected her. I figured she couldn't be totally heartless, so she must miss him some. At least, I hope. It would be insensitive not to, even if it is Dallas Winston we're talking about. Mr. and Mrs. Menace-to-society. What would she do now? Now that Dallas was gone, what would be her next conquest?

But that wasn't fair. I couldn't think of her that way. I needed to focus on being accepting. I had to prove to this whole other side of town that socs had been given a bad name (maybe rightfully so), but that at least some of us were willing to patch things up. I was realizing that that was what I wanted. I wanted things to be where I could date anyone I wanted, be friends with whoever without being sneered at, and I'm sure that they wanted that too. Sylvia included.

"Hey. Bridget."

I whipped my head to the side and saw Sylvia staring at me intently. She was still intimidating, even if she was dressed just as normally as I was. She looked the social norm, straight out of a modern fashion magazine. But that scowl; that's what made her truly not pretty. Like Steve Randle. Maybe Sylvia was just as layered as he was. Maybe if you got to the core, they were good people.

"Yes?" I mumbled. She pulled something from the pocket of her blouse.

"This is from Mathews. He asked me to give it to you." She narrowed her eyes. "I don't even want to know what the two of you are getting into."

I wanted to tell her that we weren't getting into anything, but I knew she didn't really care. I was more focused on the fact that she was acting as messenger; that Two-Bit wanted to say something to me. So I just opened the note and read it.

Bridget-

You mind meeting again in the parking lot tonight? Seven? I wanna ask a follow-up question

-Two-Bit

My breath caught in my throat. I hadn't even read the note yet, and he already wanted to hear what it said! Shoot. It's like Dallas Winston was still trying to make my life difficult even after he was gone. Damn you, Dallas.

"Bridget Stevens?"

I looked up and saw Mrs. White, the director, looking at me kindly. Mrs. White was a plump, matronly woman with a momish smile, which she was giving me right then.

"Yes ma'am?" I called back.

"It's your turn."

I took a deep breath. I stood up and walked into the stage. After a lot of consideration, I had landed on not a Broadway classic to perform, but something I could relate to more. Something Peter, Paul, and Mary. If I had to hear 'I Feel Pretty' one more time, I would scream, really and truly. I took one more deep breath as I looked down at Mrs. White, who was looking over her notes from the last girl and shaking her head. I hoped I wouldn't give her the same reaction.

"Whenever you're ready, Miss Stevens."

I nodded my head, took a deep breath, and began.

XXXXX

I barreled home after auditions, not even trying to give a thought to it. I needed to read that note before I met up with Two-Bit. I flung the front door open, and ran inside the house. My father poked his head out from his study.

"Honey!"

I paused on the staircase.

"Yeah, daddy?"

"How'd auditions go?" He asked, grinning at me. But I had no time for this! Small talk be gone!

"Fine," I answered quickly. Dad smirked.

"You think you got a good part?" He asked. I rolled my eyes. This conversation needed to be over. We could go more in-depth later.

"I hope so. But daddy, I need to do some homework, and then I need to meet Missy at her house for a project at seven. Can I?"

My father looked absolutely caught off-guard by how brusque I was being, but he nodded, and I was free to escape to my room.

The note was sitting on my desk, and I sat down at my chair and picked it up, my hands shaking. I unfolded it and began to read.

Bee Stevens & Vickie Harper know each other. Here's to hoping Vickie won't tell that big mouth about what happened- god knows she'd spill the whole damn thing.

The first thing that struck me was that he, too, had called me Bee Stevens. Again, thanks, Two-Bit.

But then!

It was Vickie! Not Cherry. Why didn't Two-Bit tell me? More importantly, what was Vickie keeping from me about Dallas Winston? And why would he care if I know? I had a new mystery to solve, and I wasn't exactly thrilled that I was being dragged into it.

At least I had a partner in crime.

That was it. I had to go. I had to see Two-Bit. As I rummaged through my closet for a jacket, remembering how I'd felt last time, I came across a black leather jacket sitting on the floor.

Oh.

Right.

I still had that.

Which was perfect, because then I could wear it there and give it back. It wasn't mine, it was his, and he needed it. I had a million coats; I doubted very much that he did. So I threw it on over a sweater, and headed for the car. I drove off towards the school, note in my pocket.

And there again was Two-Bit, sitting on the steps in a brown leather jacket and a bottle of some sorts in his hand.

He was worse off than the last time I saw him, which had been a few days. A few days since he told me to remember I could be happy. A few days since he'd given me his jacket. A few days.

"Oh my god, Two-"

"Don't say a damn word," he cut in, his voice dry. "Not a damn word."

I slumped down next to him on the steps. Someone sure was grumpy.

"The hell is wrong with you?" I blurted. Two-Bit laughed, which dissolved into a fit of coughs. He winced, then shook his head as if to clear it of something.

"I dunno, Bridget. I dunno," he sighed, smearing a hand down the side of his face. It was weird hearing him use my real name. "I slept for twenty hours straight the other day. Twenty! That... That ain't right."

I shook my head. I tried to reach my hand up to his forehead, but he swatted it away.

"Don't," he snapped. "My ma's been doin' that all week. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of people feeling my forehead, and askin' me if I'm okay, and if I'm feeling down about Johnny and Dallas dyin'."

He paused for a minute before continuing. Two-Bit shook his head slowly.

"'Cuz ya know, all they're gonna find out is that I'm not feelin' okay, and I am down about my friends dying."

Two-Bit's eyes had started to gloss over, and that freaked me out because I was afraid he'd start crying, and I'm no good at comforting people, so instead I blurted,

"Two-Bit, please, please don't start crying."

I felt my face start to get red as soon as I said it. Two-Bit started laughing, and I put my hands up to my face, embarrassed. But he wasn't crying. That was good enough for me.

"You're a funny girl, Bee," he chuckled. I closed my eyes, desperately trying not to smile. But it was so hard, because smiling is just about the only thing Two-Bit does with consistency.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"But not funny like me. I'm haha funny. You're the weird kinda funny," Two-Bit continued. I laughed again.

"You make me laugh, Two-Bit."

"I do? Well good. I like makin' you laugh."

"You're easy to laugh at."

Two-Bit glared at me, and shook his head, tisking.

"I could say the same thing about you, ya know."

"I know."

Two-Bit started coughing again, from real deep in his chest. I pounded his back, and after a minute he finally stopped.

"You're not okay," I whispered, pulling my hand back to my body. Two-Bit laughed.

"No, I'm not," he agreed. "I'm really not."

Two-Bit ran a hand down his face, looking tired and worn down. Even in the dusky light I could see circles under his eyes.

"You should get home. It's cold out here."

"I should, but I don't wanna."

I sighed. Two-Bit could be extremely stubborn when he wanted to be. "I figgered I might head over to Buck's tonight, maybe Brookie's. I dunno. I just don't really wanna go home."

That struck me hard. Why wouldn't he want to go home? And why would he want to go and spend his night at a bar? I could tell drinking was pretty much on the forefront of his mind, and it mad me sad.

"I wish you wouldn't. It's not doing you any good," I whispered. He gave me a look.

"And why should you care?" He asked.

I looked down at my hands embarrassed. I was so stupid; I should've known the direction this conversation was going to take. I sighed, and decided to just change the subject.

"I read the note," I said. Two-Bit raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah? What'd it say?"

"Not much. Just mentioned my friend Vickie, and how he hoped she wouldn't tell me about something. Would you happen to know anything about that?" Two-Bit shook his head.

"Not a clue. Guess we could do some investigatin..."

I smiled at him, and he smiled back. Maybe we were thinking about the same thing. I looked away, a bit embarrassed about what I was about to say.

"Look, Two-Bit. Lemme take you home. I-I can drive you home, if you'd like. I really don't mind," I insisted, keeping my voice as soft and polite as I could. Two-Bit's face softened.

"Now why would you do that?" He asked. I shrugged sheepishly.

"You deserve a break," I said. "After... Everything."

I heard him sigh, but then he clasped a hand on my shoulder and I looked up to see him smiling.

"I love this change in attitude you've had towards me, Bee Stevens," he smiled. "Sounds like a plan, peach." And I smiled.

We made our way to my car, not saying anything to each other, except when I told him that I insisted I drove. He let me, but I could hear him grumbling about his man card, or something stupid like that.

"Guys are s'posed to drive," he told me as we drove. "I'm s'posed to give you my jacket, open your door for you, then make small talk as we drive. The gal ain't s'posed to drive."

"That's too bad then," I shrugged, enjoying his naivety. "Because you aren't in any condition to be driving." He ran his hand across the dash.

"I ain't ever been in a car this nice. This your car?" He asked. I rolled my eyes; why is it that everyone thinks this is my car?

"No, it's not," I said simply. Then we were quiet again, the only sound being Two-Bit giving me directions. The absence of sound surrounding us.

"I've been drinkin a lot," he said suddenly. I looked at him worriedly. "I think that's why I'm... Like this."

I sighed, looking out the front windshield. That made sense. Drinking makes you susceptible to illness, right? Or at least it made your health decline. Suddenly, I was worried for him. He wasn't talking about drinking for fun; he'd been drinking to cope. Of course. He had something happen to him that he had to get over. And this was how he was going about doing it. My heart sank.

"Which one's yours?" I asked as we came to his street. He pointed.

"This'un right here," Two-Bit slurred. I stopped in front of his house.

Then I remembered.

"I'm wearing your jacket."

"So you are."

"I'd like to give it back."

I slipped out of his jacket and handed it to him. Two-Bit smiled.

"Thanks, Miz Bee."

"No problem."

I watched him as he stepped out of the car and walk up the front walk to his house. I still wondered why he didn't want to be there. I hoped it was a stupid reason, nothing like what I've heard some of these parents put their kids through on this side of town. I sighed and drove away.

XXXXX

"I got it!"

Jerry looked at me, confused.

"What? What'd you get?"

"The part!" I cried. "Reno! I got a lead female role!"

Jerry grinned and threw his arms around me, kissing me on the cheek. Ah, bliss. He distanced himself from me and looked me in the eye.

"That's great," he said. "That's real great, Bridget. I knew you could. C'mon, let's go celebrate."

I grinned at him, and grabbed his hand. We walked out of the school like that, and as we walked I saw Two-Bit.

And he saw me.

And he knew.

I saw that stupid grin and that wink. And it meant as much as Jerry holding my hand and taking me to celebrate.

Maybe even more.

XXXXX

AN: Pardon typos. I like this chapter, I dunno why. Maybe because Bridget/Two-Bit is starting to heat up. ;)

I've had some requests for some Two-Bit POV lately, and I'm considering posting some one-shots and maybe continuing "Let Me Count the Ways" as a side-fic to this. What would you guys think of that?

You guys were FAB last chapter in your feedback- keep it up! Leave a review, or follow or fav. It makes me day.