Morning is here and I feel fantastic - for fifteen seconds - until I stretch. Then I want to scream because the slice on my shoulder pulls it isn't a nice way to wake up. I feel like I'm going hyperventilate because I'm trying to gulp down air so I don't burst out crying and I'm trying to hold my shoulder without really touching the problem and slowly it starts to dull until I can finally sit up.

And then the smell of bacon hits me and my stomach growls reminding me it's been a while since I ate.

Knock. Knock.

"Dana?"

"Come in," I answer with a half way throaty whisper.

I hear a shifting or something before the door opens and Harry comes in with a big smile and a plate. My stomach growls and I can see his smile grow wider. I sit up straighter and lean against the wall carefully while he proudly brings over the food and sets it on my sheet-covered lap. When I look down I see sausage, toast, and eggs - along with an ample amount of cleavage. I tug up the front of my silky, multicolored shift, maybe I shouldn't have taken such reveling night clothes but they're small once you roll them up and that makes it easy to fit in a packed bag.

"Eat, try it," he tells me as he sits down.

"I thought I was suppose to make you eggs," I tease.

"And miss the opportunity to wait on you hand and foot? Never." He stares pointedly at the fork I've picked up and I appease him by taking some eggs and lifting it to my lips. They're a little salty but the sheer anticipation on his face waiting for me; he made them for me.

"Delicious."

He acts like it's the best compliment he's ever gotten as he gets off the bed. "I forgot the coffee."

He's already half way gone when I look up and I can't say how incredible I feel. He comes right back with cup in hand and sets it on the nightstand before looking at me with curious eyes.

"What?" I ask suspiciously.

"Dana. How would you feel if . . . how would you feel if I asked you to come to work with me today?"

"You're joking, right?"

"No, you could hang out in the lounge or something."

"Harry, I'm not a child." Although it's nice to see him this worried.

"I know that, believe me, I know that."

Hmm, I think I'll let that slip go. "But?"

"But . . . Just for today?"

"I'm not going to school with you, Harry."

"Just for a couple hours, it's not even a class, it's a tour."

"Nu-uh."

"It starts at eleven and we'll be out of there by twelve-thirty."

"Still no."

"Dana," he says in a cross between a plead and a 'be sensible'.

"I have something else to do," I say quietly as I look down and push my food around.

"Like."

" . . . I have to go to my mother's today. I'm running out of clothes and I have to get the rest of my stuff."

"Then I'll go with you after the tour."

**

She looks at me kind of wary then, as if questioning if I was willing to do it. Course I was. I don't know why, exactly, but I was still willing. Anything to get her to come with me, pacing for the rest of the night and walking around the apartment sealed that idea.

"You don't have to, Harry."

Sounds so sweet and compliant, two things Dana Poole keeps hidden very, very, *very* deeply.

"What did I say about waiting on you hand an foot? It's my duty, it's every sort-of-roommate/ex-teachers duty - when sort-of roommate/ex-student gets robbed you have to wait on her. Now I just try and go with the rules myself. Don't like to make waves, you know."

She laughs a little before looking at me and nodding a bit. "Okay."

"Okay to the tour too? Its part of the duty pertaining to you - don't want to break our non verbal, make-it-up-as-we-go-along contract do you?"

"Me? Why I would never break anything even resembling a rule," she says faking innocence.

"Of course not."

**

After Harry leaves to let me get dressed I go over what I have left. A shirt, one of my comfy ones with the starburst in the middle, and a pair of jeans. No underclothes whatsoever, but I can deal until I go to my mother's . . . Hmm, that thought makes me queasy. I don't want to face her and if I'm lucky she won't be home, I'm sure she'll be able to track down a happy hour.

I pull the jeans on and am profoundly glad the weather has gotten better and it's no longer sweltering - well, more then usual.

"Dana?"

"Back off, dressing time is a very personal opportunity to reflect on those that annoy you. And you know what they say, speak of the devil . . ." I wonder if he can hear the smile in my voice. The shirt I have isn't going to work since raising my shoulder is making me want to scream so I take one of Harry's button down shirts and shrug it on easily. Big, and comfy.

"Oh, then you must have been thinking of the person you adore, it's the only explanation for me bothering you."

By now I'm finishing my make-up and thankful the bruise on my face isn't nearly as bad as I thought. It's a little swollen but not the multi-colored horror I was expecting, the ice-cold peas helped a lot, it's still red though and maybe I can pass it off as sunburn. Except that purple part . . . I'll wear my hair down, with a little more cover-up.

I pull open the door and he's still standing there, a slight smile on his face.

"Come on, we can't be late for school." I wink and walk past him, picking my keys out of my beaten book bag. "Like the ensemble?"

He smiles a little and nods before answering. "I like it. A lot."

**

The ride to school is not quiet but a disagreement over the radio ensures that. Dana fiddles over the buttons without a regard to my faces of distaste - and when she does regard me she laughs anyway.

We have ten minutes before the tour starts when we get to the school and she gets out of the car to just stand and stare at Winslow. She seems a little hesitant and her expression is apprehensive but I go around the car to grab her hand and urge her on. She smiles a little and follows. I'm glad she's here, I won't worry if she's here. I just have to see if I have enough balls to admit she's here with me.

**

As soon as we walk in he drops my hand. I don't like it but what should I expect, he is *just* my friend. The school is still school and it tugs at me a bit to remember the good times and it seems like most of the crappy stuff that happened dissipates and it all turns into the 'good ole' days', ah denial and just the right mix of selective memory.

Nice.

"Harry?"

I see Miss Sudor coming toward us, leaving the group of those I guess is Harry's tour, and I push the large, dark glasses I wear to make sure they are positioned right. She looks decidedly curious and she stops short when she sees me, especially me with the dark-haired, gorgeous teacher I *formally* had a crush on. Formally. The teacher who's looking back at me a little comforting and a lot more nervous.

"Dana, it's good to see you again," Miss Sudor says politely while she shoots a look at my 'roommate'. It's probably the shirt that's making her wonder, it shouldn't though, it's a plain white dress shirt, it could be from anywhere.

"We--"

"Saw each other outside."

He looks at me with a question but I don't mind that he wants to keep our arrangement private. It was a lot of slush he had to push through last year - he wasn't the only one - and it's better if it wasn't tossed back up for nothing. We are just *friends*.

"Really?" she asks, concern . . . no, just curiosity again.

"Yeah, I was just . remembering . the high school days before I go on to college and I saw Mr. Senate here on the way in so we talked some." It's weird how that name still slips so easily over my tongue. Mr. Senate. Most times it comes more easily than 'Harry' does. I wonder if he knows, but how could he? Why should he?

"Well, I'm sure Harry recalls a couple of those days himself," she teases just slightly with that still-balanced, always balanced, voice. And even I smile at that one. Harry, though, doesn't seem as amused.

"Funny. But I refrain from any comebacks because I need some help."

**

"Help?" she asks, I can see her eyes dart to Dana who is still beside me and behind those eyes I know she's remembering how I ran out on our discussion yesterday. If she gives me the benefit of the doubt she won't figure it out, especially if Lauren called her for their 'girl talk' type thing this morning . . . if they really do that and it's not just a segment on 'Sex and the City' . . . not that I watched that . . .. more than once.

"I need you to cover my classes for Monday."

"Any particular reason?"

"My lucrative singing career is taking off and I'm wanted for a Wayne Newton impersonator Vegas show."

"In other words, none of my business?" She sighs and shifts the books she's holding to the other arm. "Fine, even though I'm only supposed to have *one* class that day. Just, put ten on Red 20 for me."

She nods a good-bye to Dana who does the same before she heads for the office. The beautiful but questioning face at my side just gets my smile as I head for the group of people. She doesn't follow so I stop and turn.

"Come on, you can be my little helper."

"Teacher's pet?" she asks with a coy tone that really isn't helping me concentrate on my guide duties. I manage a nod and she smiles a great smile and walks past me to the group.

**

"Do they have an introspective History class here?" a mother voices.

"They have a very . descriptive and . . . interesting . History course here." I can see Dana holding back a laugh at my thoughts on Lipshitz teaching. "Now we can go see where I teach. Down to the Dungeon."

They clatter down behind me and I stop in front of the door of the sacred Pit o' Fun.

"During the school year this is my classroom, a sort of haven for those rejected by the regular classes. I don't think I'll see any of you, least I hope not, I already have my hands full." Before I can stop myself I've looked at Dana and what seemed like an innocent comment has come off as a leering, dirty comment. Maybe not to everyone else but definitely to me.

**

Now I REALLY have to try and not laugh, that little look with his comment . . . He is too hilarious for his own good. What makes it even funnier is that no one else in the group is the wiser, well, maybe a few of the mothers who are now giving appraising looks, but I am not going to worry about that now.

"So," he breaks loudly. "Let's head back upstairs."

He rubs his hands together and is already to the steps before I can glance at the classroom that had a lot of memories in it. Maybe that's why he suddenly decided not to show it . . . No, what am I saying? We're friends. We'll be good friends.

**

"Easy, all that reluctance for a big bunch of nothing."

Dana looks at me and bestows a smile before opening the car door. "I don't complain, Harry, I merely point out certain things - Like when someone is worrying needlessly."

She gets in the car and I still look across the roof. It wasn't needlessly. She could have been killed.

"Come on," she tells me as I feel a tug on the bottom of my tee shirt. I follow and am behind the wheel, starting the car and pausing before pulling out on autopilot. I must be too quiet because she asks me what's wrong.

"Nothing."

"You suck at lying."

"Only sometimes," I answer absently.

"Tell me."

"You could have been killed, I don't get how you can just dismiss that."

She gives a ragged sigh and falls against the seat. She's upset but I know I'm right. "It happens."

"You have to be difficult."

"You have to be all crazy about it!" she defends.

"I just don't want . . ." I look at her and she has her doe eyes on me and I think she might be about to cry.

"I kind of like when you worry," she tells me, choked up. And now I'm confused. She just reamed me for worrying and now she appreciates it . . . But it's Dana and I think you have to expect the unexpected. 'Surprise', remember?