Sorry about the last crappy chapter, it got a screwed somewhere along the way, but all the punctuation is now fixed.

**

I blink my eyes open a couple of times and light's just starting to break. For a minute I don't know why I'm up and then I look at Dana. She's not covered up, there is no statically placed blankets to cash in on the allure of the moment, no, it's just her. Bare and Dana and . . . work.

Son of a bitch.

I pull out of bed and head to the bathroom, watching her as I go. The morning after, this is the morning . . . Wow. Big . . . big stuff. Coming back in I watch her again, but this time it results in me stepping on one of her sharp little hair things - it's worth it. I crawl back in next to her . . .

The thought that I soon have to leave this bed to go to work does not fill me with any amount of joy. But the clock says I still have time and I'm going to spend it looking at her. Running my fingers through her hair and enjoying it when she moves even closer and sighs. This is good. Except for the crazy jumping going on in me . . . I thought I'd got over this stuff a long time ago. A woman is a woman, you have sex and it's just a thing, a relationship to last until you meet someone else. I never felt this afterwards. Yeah, I've wanted to stick around after sex before, but it was because I was tired, I thought I might get another quickie, I just felt like it at that moment. . . Not because my stomach was in knots and I just wanted to lay next to her and enjoy being close to her.

Fuck. Let me call Milton, maybe we can go pick out some dresses for ourselves today.

She blinks a couple times and looks up at me, her eyes hazy. "Mornin'."

"Morning."

"Mmm," she moans as she stretches her legs before sitting up and smiling at me. "'Scuse me."

Her voice is soft as she rasps it and she climbs over my body carefully, walking to the bathroom as I watch her. Unbelievable. Dana Poole. Unbelievable.

**

The water flows over my hands as I clumsily clean them; I'm more occupied by looking at the smile stuck on my face. I spent the night with Harry Senate.

The term 'Wheee' comes to mind.

Coming out of the bathroom, I stand in the doorway for a minute, looking at him staring at the ceiling, and then his eyes falling on me. I walk over to him, not losing one inch of my grin as I swing a leg over him and settle on his stomach.

"You looked pleased."

"I am," I answer. "*Very* pleased. You don't look so bad either. Uncovered buried treasure, or recently discovered a cure for something?"

"I got you," he says like he's pointing it out to me.

"'Cause you're a winner," I wink prodding his very fine chest, the one I can now touch and not pretend he had rabid, mass gatherings of lint everywhere. Wheee.

"I am," he tells me in a show of utter macho bravado, but I let him pull me down for a kiss anyway. Okay, so *I* am the one that leans down for a kiss. Same outcome.

"Tell me you don't have to go to work today," I command in a way I consider sweet when I pull back a little.

"I really wish I didn't have to," he says, barely clearing my lips to say the words.

"That's what they always say, let me start reciting the 'Romeo and Juliet' dialogue. 'It is not the nightingale --" I start badly.

"I'd rather get into our routine . . . little too forward?" He gives a truly searching look that matches the question and I look at him with a questioning expression of my own.

"We're naked, and I'm sitting on top of you," I slide down, feeling him against my very rapidly excited self and sighing. "I'd say you have a good chance."

**

I'm in a good mood as I sit in the teacher's lounge, an incredibly large amount of excellent, GOOD mood. I love my life. If being its bitch is this good I don't mind so much at the moment. Mostly cause I just got laid - which always elicits a good mood - but to be with Dana . . . that's were the extra, complementary adjectives come in.

"Hey, Harry."

"Marilyn. Thanks for taking my classes yesterday. How are you today?"

"Ooo, someone's in a good mood. Satisfactory weekend I suppose," she smiles.

"Better than I would have thought." And I'm smiling. I never smile like this, consistently, after having sex. Ever. I'm not one of those 'I just got some' people.

"Someone got some," she assesses without opinion. I still hold out hope it's not my 'I'm an ass' expression that made it obvious. The way she's nonchalantly pulling out a bottle of water and not really looking at me, I can tell she wants to ask me something. It's on the tip of her tongue and -

"Harry? Is there really something going on between you and Dana Poole?"

Score.

"If I say no?"

"I wouldn't believe you."

"And I'd be lying," I comply.

That surprised her.

"Really."

Now or never, get the spine and remember my balls. "We're living together."

"Wow."

"But I bet Lauren already told you that."

Her form of revenge, I'm sure.

"Actually, she did call me last night, she was pretty upset. Can I ask how long?"

"It didn't start out like this, we didn't just sit around until school ended and then automatically start something. After she graduated I never thought I'd see her again." I look at her and shake my head. "But she's eighteen, and not my student and . . . and that's pretty much all anyone wants to hear around here."

"I'm sorry," she apologizes. "It's not my place to say anything against it and . . . I wouldn't if I thought it was."

She kind of finishes that with a half smile.

"Thank you." I mean it. Too many people try to butt in my life whenever it came to Dana, looking back, even when I said I didn't care what they thought, I probably did. Hell, I _did_ care. But now I don't, I just don't. But, to have a friend say they wouldn't lecture me either way - not that I'd listen - it's actually kind of pleasant. A change of pace.

"No problem. But now you can't make those cracks to Milton," she reminds with a grin as she gets up and head to her first class.

"I never pinned my job on Dana."

"Not exactly," she muses.

Damn.

"I'll figure out something." I will, cause Dana and I didn't got down to the basement for mid-day nookie. 'Sides if I ever got that dreamy look . . . no. Milton's probably busy somewhere picking out china patterns.

**

"Thank you." I hang up the phone, feeling uneasy and still happy. My mother's doing better. The nurse was really nice and encouraging even . . . She'll be out tomorrow. Ease must reach all the way to my toes because I put my hand to my face and want to laugh.

She'll be okay.

I jump off the crates and practically hop into the kitchen. My muscles, freshly sore, actually feel good with the pull. It reminds me of last night. And this morning. I was going to make Harry breakfast this morning, but we stayed in bed until the last minute when he was actually pulling his shirt on when he left and had his shoes untied. I laughed so hard that he did too, all the way until he was out of the door.

And now I'm smiling a lot. All the way through my shower, many fine memories there, all the way through dressing, my make-up, and all the way until I looked at the phone and knew I had to call and see how my mother was. And I found the extra key today. It's a positive sign. Now I'm smiling again. While toasting waffles. I think I've got it bad.

I don't mind.

Grin.

I come back in with my breakfast and pick up the phone again. I've missed a lot of work and I don't want to get fired, especially now that I have a dwindling bank account and I'll be staying here, long-term preparations for rent are a must now. When I dial, my fingers stall a little. Somehow, after last night, this job seems so . . . personal. Too intrusive when it used to be something I walked through.

I try to shake my thoughts away, and I start again, listening to the ringing.

"Diva Divine. This is Ginger speaking."

"Casey!"

"Dana!"

"I'm so glad you're on hostess duty!" I should have called her yesterday but - "I should have called you yesterday, but my mind was all cluttered."

"What happened? Is your mom okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, she's going to be fine, she broke her leg and . . . She's going to be released tomorrow."

"Oh! That's so great."

"Yeah, it is," I sigh. "It's . . . hard, Case, but Harry, he's . . ." Damn, I trail off to smile.

"That's who you're living with now?"

"Yeah, it is," I say, happy as hell. He's actually the guy I'd been gushing to her about for a long time, but she doesn't know that.

"I'm so glad, Dana. Grainy was even worried. Can you believe it, looking almost sad - course Chastity offered him a free dance to cheer him up."

"Of course. So am I fired yet?"

"Aren't you listening? Grainy was almost sad - you still have a job," she laughs.

"So if I'm up right away when will I be put on schedule?" I say, although my voice becomes faint toward the end.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" she asks softly.

"Yeah . . . yeah," I shrug. "I . . . I need the money, Casey."

I hear her blow out a breath and there are a few moments before she talks again. "Probably tomorrow. You'll either come in around the after-work rush or later. Grainy figures you're going to need the cash . . . the person form the hospital kind of let it slip they needed to find you for insurance purposes."

"Fuck!" Does everyone have to know my business? The awkward feeling that is still heavy in me gets pushed away with anger. Mostly. "You can put me on, Case, call me when you have my hours, okay?"

I sit on the crates and shift. My attention drifts from the phone to the piece of modern art I sit upon. . . I'm going to making some extra cash tomorrow, I have to . . . Hmm, I'm sure I have enough to cover it as is . . . I'm pretty much going to be broke anyway and I don't want to play it safe today, I want to surprise Harry . . . other than, you know, breaking the last one. It makes the uneasiness fade as my thoughts turn better.

"HELLO?"

Oh. Phone. "Huh?"

"I asked if I was supposed to call you on your imaginary cellphone."

"Oh. OH! Right. I never gave you . . . my new number." I smile again. MY new number.

Grin.

**

Lunch. I'm starving. I even confiscated a bag of pretzels from Thomas Jand and ate a couple before I gave them back. I hit the teacher's lounge and look around; knowing Marilyn probably has some cheesy-cracker-type-whatever somewhere. As I search I dig into my pockets looking for change or something, I left my wallet at home. Didn't have time to worry about it when I was simultaneously trying to convince Dana to have sex with me again by kissing that spot on her neck she really likes, right at the pulse point. She likes it better when it's bit. I'm lucky I left with clothes on.

"Miss me?" a voice asks.

Kevin.

"Kevin, welcome back, how was your vacation?" I ask, abandoning my search momentarily.

"Beautiful. Water, sun, and--"

"Don't say 'fun', quoting the brochure leads me to believe you got rained out."

"Uh-uh. I spent my time drinking things with umbrellas in them and taking scantily-clad women out," he boasts proud and satisfied as he drops onto the couch.

"Lost your virginity then?"

"Coupla times," he counters. "It was heaven."

"Welcome to hell, the devil's not here at the moment, running errands."

"Eh, you have to mention Guber," he bemoans as I start to look for something again. "I was so happy I almost forgot about him, I got back so late last night I didn't want to call so I figured I'd drop by and see you guys."

"Well I wouldn't let Guber see that shirt, it's against dress code, in fact I wouldn't let *anyone* see that shirt. Is that . . . pineapple?" Neon green pineapple, all over the shirt. "Are you sure you didn't hang out with the retirees down there?"

He just smiles and basks in his post-vacation happiness.

"Hey, boys," Marilyn greets, opening a cabinet and pulling out some ranch flavored cracker things. I knew it. I go over and, as she pulls one out, I stick my hand inside to grab a handful. "Harry! How about some manners?"

"Thank you?"

She rolls her eyes and goes to sit next to Kevin. "How was the vacation?"

"Sand, sun, and fun," he cheeses out. "I walked along the ocean's tide at sunset, laid on the beach, and took in the sites. It was heaven."

Why is it that every time a guy relates the story to a woman - especially one he's been interested in, the whole tale gets a new spin? I really shouldn't . . . but it's how I am . . .

"Did he say 'laid on the beach' or '*got* laid on the beach' because he was just telling me--"

He shoots me a look but Marilyn just tilts her head. "It was his vacation, Harry. Like you aren't having a perfectly fine time here?"

She doesn't say it to insinuate anything, just makes her point, as she gets off the couch. But Kevin *has* to pick up on it. Fantastic.

"Back with Lauren?" he asks. Marilyn gives me an apologetic look and holds out the crackers in penance. I take them and turn my back to him.

"No."

"Oh, so someone new, huh? Anyone I know?"

Marilyn has the grace to shift a little and clear her throat before announcing she has to go, leaving me in the situation she made. Thanks, Marilyn.

"Yeah. You know her."

"So who is it?"

"Uh. Dana, actually, Dana Poole."

"DANA POOLE?" That's to be expected. "You and Dana Poole? How'd that happen?"

"We met up, and we got to talking." We did, and I doubt she wants him to know that she's was in trouble. "And . . ."

"What? One thing led to another?"

"For lack of a better, or more original, phrase."

"So you and Dana Poole, huh?"

Crunch. These ranch things aren't palatable. But I've probably eaten half the box.

"Yep." Might as well get it out now. "We're living together."

"So . . . are you in love with her? I mean she was a student, Harry." I have a feeling this is going to be a running revelation.

"She *was* a student, she isn't now and no, I'm not in love with her."

"So you're using her?" he asks incredulously.

No! "No! I'm not using her."

"But you're living together? That's pretty serious, Harry."

"It's not like that, she's kind of like my roommate."

"Who you happened to be, what? Having sex with? Sounds like using."

"I don't just have sex with her!" How did I get into discussing this? It's my private business - but I want to make validly. "I have feelings for . . ."

Wait. What?

. . . Fuck.

Fuck.

I'm . . . Fuck. I said I wouldn't get involved in the beginning, but I'm more than involved. I'm so involved that I may be . . . No. No, that's moronic to even consider. I'm not falling in love with Dana. No. I said I wouldn't, I always said I wouldn't, and I'm not. I want a relationship with her but, I'm . . .

I don't fall in love. I never have and never will. I doubt the general truth of it. My parents were in love, that's like a Scared Straight program. No, this is just. Dana and I, together for now . . . Right.

"Harry."

Fuck. Kevin. "Huh?"

"You okay?"

Am I . . . Yeah. I am. Because this is just me, and Dana, and that's it. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"You were saying?"

" . . . Dana and I are just Dana and I. That is it, and it doesn't need any other explanation anyway."

Yeah.

**