Disclaimer: I own nothing you may or may not recognize. Characters are from RFR; I don't own them.

Rating: PG13, just in case

Pairing: Travis/Lily eventually

A/N: Let's get back to business, shall we? Thanks to all who reviewed on this story and on Because I Can! And thanks to Dangrassi for taking an idea and running with it like an Olympic Medalist! Go read her story, Happy Go Nutso Roscoe and REVIEW it! Why you ask?

Because I SAID so! (No really, it's very good. :) )

Because I Know You

Chapter Eighteen: Ambition and Aspiration

Life moved on as it always does. Fall had yawned and gave way to Winter, which had been completely shoved out of the way by Spring. Lily continued with her studies at Julliard, preparing to finish up this semester and move toward her "senior" year after the summer. Ray and Robbie emailed her nearly every day. Communication with Travis wasn't quite as frequent but that just made her appreciate it that much more when it was received. Even as she grew used to her new surroundings and activities she could not shake an unusual feeling. She'd go about her routine of tutoring, music instruction, and visiting new places with her mother but always had that feeling that she was forgetting something important. She supposed after being friends so long with Ray and Robbie and later Travis that the lack of their presence was pushing at her subconscious.

Undoubtedly, she missed her friends but that wasn't the only thing that was niggling at the back of her mind. There was something about Julliard that inspired introspection. Of course, there was the fact that she was studying music, which was directly tied to spirit and emotion but she had decided that it had to be the campus itself. Most people assumed Julliard was a typical college-type campus with the aged architecture of mortar and brick oozing history and prominence. Yet Julliard was modern and slick with an abundance of glass and steel nestled within Lincoln Center; the many windows offered a frequent reflection of oneself. In the bright afternoon sun it offered a mirror quality view or in the evenings, lit ablaze with interior lights fighting the waning daylight, it would throw back a transparent vision, a phantom person. Lily often wondered when confronted with the phantom if she was actually witnessing a change. As if her very being was transforming, fading from old beliefs and personalities, only to solidify into some newer altered version with the coming of the morning.

She couldn't necessarily say that she was unhappy. She was enjoying her studies and being surrounded by individuals chasing after their dreams through the arts. However, she couldn't quite say she was content either. She discounted the obvious reasons of being homesick and missing Travis and the guys. And at first she thought it was just that she was now a "small fish." Actually, in Julliard she barely ranked as plankton in this sea of talent. She expected those feelings as a newcomer but as her confidence increased along with her skills that feeling of unfulfillment did not recede.

Being able to live a dream was supposed to bring about satisfaction. The last time Lily remembered that feeling was while broadcasting a Radio Free Roscoe show. That had been satisfying, enjoyable, and invigorating. More and more often while at one of the many listening stations in the Julliard library when she was supposed to be studying a particular music composition, Lily would pop in one of the CD's of the RFR broadcasts. And for an hour she would feel at peace.

She entered the apartment she now shared with her mother and heard her call out from the kitchenette. "Lily! You just missed Ray's call, if you call now I'm sure you can catch him."

Her day brightened considerably at the very thought. She smiled as she gathered the necessary supplies, a huge pillow, a notebook to doodle in, and two bottles of water. Talking with Ray could make a person very thirsty.

Lily dialed his number waiting impatiently for an answer, tapping her pen on the notebook cover. By the greeting she received it was obvious Ray's parents were not home.

"Yo!"

"With that display of disrespect it's clear you have yet to discover the true meaning of being a Brennan."

"Hey Lily! I just called you. Guess where Mickey placed your CD in the racks?"

"Well, I guess the choices of L and R are out, that would make sense." She chewed on the cap of her pen and thought for a moment. "I give up."

"Aw, come on Liiiilllly!"

"Really, Ray, I give up."

"Under F for artists with flowers in their name, Lily of the Valley! Get it?"

"Unfortunately, I do. So how is everything in Roscoe?"

"Oh, I'm sure you know, you've lived it. Nothin's getting tweaked around here. And I mean nothin."

"Well, I'm sure summer will provide you with some tweaking opportunities." Lily wondered how her word for a change in activity in Roscoe had become Ray's latest sexual innuendo.

"One can only hope. Sooo, how is my beautiful New York lady?"

"I feel like I'm swimming upstream."

She could tell by the silence that Ray was debating whether to keep the conversation light or root for the source of her ambiguity. He was cautious in his reply. "Well, I'm sure it's going to be tough learning the ropes from one of the best schools in the world."

Lily sighed heavily, "It's not that the work is too hard. I just wonder about the end result you know?"

"Lily, I've always been clueless, you're going have to be specific and possibly draw a map. Talk to me."

She wondered if Ray could tell she was smiling. She missed him. "I just don't get that same feeling. The rush I used to get while playing during a show or after I recorded those singles. Instead I'm pushing back this growing fear of being that salmon that struggles and fights its way upstream to leave its mark only to be eaten by a bear instead."

Ray deadpanned, "You're comparing a Julliard education to a spawning trip."

"Well…yeah."

"You're probably just overwhelmed and a little tired. You're coming here to visit for a while this summer right? Maybe the change of scenery and a shot of hometown ambiance will rejuvenate you." She could hear the machismo enter his voice. "And of course being surrounded by a charming and handsome person such as myself couldn't hurt you either."

"Ray?"

"Yeah Lily?"

"I have my notebook, I'm keeping score…when I get there you'd better be wearing protective gear."

Travis rushed around the club ensuring everything was in order for its night of business, a fresh stock of supplies in the loos and a quick sweep around the floors. His favorite ritual was organizing the CD's and records for the resident DJ, Dave. Oddly enough he didn't use a pseudonym like most other DJ's; he was just Dave. Then he would go upstairs, telling his Uncle Barty and Vic that he would meditate and prepare food to be waiting for them when the business closed for the night. He did actually prepare supper, he'd discovered cooking shows, and they were quite addictive. Barty was all too glad to supply him with whatever he needed if it kept him from eating take-out so often. But instead of meditating in the traditional manner he would sneak down into the studio and create whatever music fit his particular mood. It seemed to be just as good a form of relaxation as yoga.

He had always been insecure about his music and he didn't know why he hadn't trusted his uncle to listen and judge his creations yet. Tonight his mood was a little hard to pinpoint. Lily had called and told him of her upcoming visit to Roscoe and asked if he would be coming home to his parents anytime soon. Of course, he wasn't, because his parents were rarely home anymore. He felt excitement for Lily and yet resentment for being left out of the loop and anger at himself for putting himself in this position to begin with. The rapid beat of bass and harsh riffs that he blended together swept him away into another world, he did not notice the studio door open. When he finished he powered down the equipment and prepared for his sneak back into the flat. Vic was very territorial about the turntable equipment and Travis made sure to be in the flat with a textbook opened at his side to avoid suspicion.

When he looked up from the panel, the massive and silent presence of his Uncle caused him to jump nearly a foot. "Uncle Barty!"

"Yeah. Looks like someone's been caught covering their tracks. Literally." He grinned.

Travis smiled shyly. "It helps me relax, kind of like yoga. You don't mind do you?"

"Course not! That's why you came isn't it? I figured you were too tied up with your studies so far to attempt it. I guess I've been underestimating you. However, I don't know how you can compare that silly stretching you call yoga to the spectacular display of spinning I just heard. You're really very good, mate."

Travis ducked his head in the face of the compliment. "Well, I've been practicing for a while now."

"I could help you, mate. That's what family does for one another." Travis knew he was talking about laying down a professional demo and promoting it. He wasn't sure if he was ready for that yet. Now he understood how Lily felt when confronted so directly with an opportunity that could so clearly define success or failure.

"I...I don't know, Uncle Barty. I'm just acquainting myself with the new stuff, I'm probably pretty green still."

Barty snorted at Travis' display of nerves. He was about to reply when they heard Vic pummeling down the stairs screaming for Barty. "Barty! Dave's lost it, he's flew out the gate to disfigure some poor chap!" All three of them filed out as quickly as they could up the stairs with Vic providing colorful commentary. "Bloke accused him of bangin' out the baby gravy with his missus. Insane, really, what fool would want Dave? Looks like a bulldog chewin' on a wasp, I tell ya!"

The scene on the dance floor was surreal. The lights were still whirling and the background bass from the booth was still thumping with "the bloke" landing a vicious blow to each booming beat. The club-goers were rooting for a comeback from their DJ but the melee was interrupted when Barty heaved the aggressive stranger off of Dave. The man looked as if he was about to start round two with a new opponent until he got a good look at Barty. He turned on his heel and spun in a drunken circle before fleeing for the exit.

Barty was a terrifying tower of contained anger. He spun around and noticed the silence of the club and the people just looking at him. At his feet, Dave hadn't moved and was beginning to ooze blood from the fresh cuts to his face. He didn't think twice as he shouted, "VIC! Call for a medic!" As Vic scuttled off, Barty spun around to a shocked Travis. "Get in the booth!"

"What?! I can't..."

His uncle's booming voice caused everyone to jump. "GET IN THE BOOTH!!"

Travis ran to the booth, his fingers shaking as he began to fuss with the equipment. The music began to calm him and he slowly found a better rhythm and people began to move in the manner that was intended. They began to dance. Travis lost track of time as he went from mix to mix watching the crowd for signs to speed up or mellow out. When they finally shut the club down, Travis exited the booth on shaky legs to see a mummy that resembled Dave and his uncle grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

Travis couldn't stand the scrutiny any longer. "What?"

His uncle just cocked an eyebrow and smiled slyly. "The bad news is that Dave is out of commission thanks to some extra-curricular activity. The good news is that it doesn't really matter." Dave tried to frown and ended up groaning in pain. Vic decided to step in for him and glared wickedly at Travis.

Fatigue clouded Travis' mind, "So Vic's gonna take over then?"

Vic actually growled and Travis frowned in confusion.

Barty laughed heartily but finally put an end to the suspense. "No, mate! You are!"

Travis couldn't sleep. After the events of tonight he doubted it was possible. Performing as a live DJ in a bona fide club was scary, exhilarating, and familiar all at once. Barty wanted him to continue and the thought of that excited and terrified him. They would get another DJ to fill in as well since Travis obviously could not stay up late every night and still maintain his studies. The mention of a third DJ had frustrated Vic so much that he'd left and not returned since. Smirking, Travis thought, If it isn't one love triangle it's another.

That made him think of Lily. He wished he could talk to her. Glancing at the clock he realized that in London it was technically morning but in New York Lily would still be awake. It was rather late to call but his insomnia pushed him to pick up the phone. He hesitated; knowing it might get her in trouble. Quickly he fired off emails instead to all three of his former DJ's. He thought Lily might call if she saw it. Time passed even more slowly. Excitement-induced insomnia combined with hopeful waiting for a telephone call seemed to produce a bubble in time. He lasted eight minutes before he reached for the receiver again and dialed in the numbers before losing his nerve.

Of course Mrs. Randall had answered. After a quick explanation and a promise to be brief, she agreed to let him speak with Lily.

Travis stretched back onto his bed and placed his free hand under his head while waiting for her.

"Travis?"

"Hey Lil. I don't mean to scare you or your mom; it's nothing really. I'm just a little excited and confused."

"About what?"

"I performed at the club tonight. Not too long, but for a couple of hours I was the DJ."

"WOW! How did that happen? Did you like it? Did the people like it? What did your uncle say?"

"Whoa slow down! I probably shouldn't have called; you'll be up all night too. I can't really explain in detail, it's all a blur. The resident DJ got into a fight, got pounded, and Barty forced me into the booth. I don't remember anything really other than the people didn't flee screaming. That's a good sign right? Anyway, Barty wants me to keep doing it."

She laughed, "I'll bet they didn't flee. You're really good Travis and it's about time the world got to know Travis Strong, he's worth knowing."

He sobered somewhat as she threw his words back at him again. "Maybe they didn't flee. Then again they might not come back. What if I can't handle this?"

"You can, Travis. It can't be any worse than taking in calls from rabid teens for an underground radio station. You'll be great!" Her voice was so soothing.

"How can you know that, Lil?"

"Because I know you."

Travis swore he could hear her smiling. He closed his eyes as she began to tell him with enthusiasm how she could help him, giving him new music and sending him a sound file if he needed some guitar riffs or how she could probably interest some of her classmates in Julliard. Any type of musical instrument would be at his disposal to blend into new mixes, horns, bells, and flutes. The stranger the sound the more it would stand out against the bass. His body finally began to relax as she continued laying out her game plan to make him the most sought after DJ in the city.

"Hey Lily?" His voice was deeper with the oncoming drowsiness.

"Yeah?" The lower octave sent a warm feeling through her. She realized he was falling asleep.

"I really miss you."

"I miss you too. Goodnight, Travis."

Lily listened for his response. She could hear his breathing, deep and even. She was tempted to remain on the line, listening while she too fell asleep but thought his uncle might do him harm when he discovered the bill. She turned off the phone.

She just missed him so much.

A/N: Who's ready for another review story? Once again, I don't own a darn thing. It's long but I don't care, do you?

Life couldn't have been any better Harry decided. He was getting to spend some time with Ron and Hermione during the summer holiday. At Hermione's house this time. Ron, for all his gripes about his father's position, was in heaven among all the muggle oddities. Television in particular had captured his fancy.

Presently they were all gathered around the telly as if it were the hearth in the Gryffindor common room. They were watching Sixth Sense and sniggering every time Haley Joel Ozment whispered fearfully, "I see dead people." Hermione had to explain to Ron that in the muggle community it was extremely uncommon. It had gotten ridiculous and was now their new catch phrase…"I see dead wizards!"

Harry glanced over occasionally at Hermione who was splitting her time between writing on parchment and grinning softly at Ron's enjoyment. When Ron left for more refreshments from the kitchen Harry asked her, "What is that you're writing, Hermione?"

She looked at him with a soft glare, "Well, you scoffed earlier. I'm writing a review for that story. It's important to tell people what you think of their work, or anything really."

He scooted very close to her to peer at her "review." From what he could see, she was thorough and thoughtful. She was putting her exceptional mind and effort into it. "So, you are doing this for yourself as much as the writer?"

"Of course, how else will the world know how I feel about anything? Telling what you like or love lets the world know how to respond to you as well. You might just get back something that pleases you." She continued to scratch out her thoughts on the vellum.

"Really?" His voice was at an odd and deep pitch that caught her attention.

She looked up at him then; his intense green eyes focused solely on her. Her own eyes widened as he leaned in very closely and his gaze shifted to her lips as he whispered a one-word request for permission…"Hermione?"

She closed her eyes as her assent and leaned forward waiting breathlessly. Just then Ron bellowed from the kitchen.

"YOU LOT WANT ANYTHING?"

Both Harry and Hermione jumped apart as he rounded the corner. Ron looked at their close proximity and looked at them oddly, "What are you doing, Harry?"

"I was…um…I was…"

Hermione saved him again, grinning slyly in his direction. "He was …reviewing."