A/N: Alright...yay, chapter 3...another slow chapter. I know, I know, it's going slowly, but it'll pick up. I'm thinking the rating may change later on...for sadistic-ness and stuff.

And I didn't know where the Recess show is supposed to take place, so I never mention it...I know that PeachestheFirst writes that they live in Arkansas...is that where they live? Does anyone know? Please tell me if you do.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, too...as always, you guys are awesome. I love getting reviews; good/bad, it just shows you read my story. Which is what I aim for. Oh, and I didn't know that PeachestheFirst, I've heard mention of D.W. Gavin, but never read any of his work. I just chose the name Jocko 'cause I thought it fit his personality. Thanks also to goofymonkeychild, TheNextPoliticalDynasty, and xxxBlueFirePrincessxxx...I wonder who the letter was from too...

Alright...on to the fic...enjoy.

Chapter 3: The Return Home

"What are the odds?" Spinelli asked, making her way into her and TJ's bedroom later that night. She'd kept herself busy that day, three hours of sparring with Jocko; who walked out of the apartment later that night with a pronounced limp and a great deal of wincing; after which she took a long hot shower and spent the rest of the day painting. She stopped only once to bring some food to TJ who was hard at work brainstorming for the new article prompt (or watching TV, whatever you call it.)

"The odds of what?" TJ inquired, raising an eyebrow at her as he changed for bed.

"The odds of our cozy little hometown hosting a kickboxing tournament," Spinelli explained.

"A better question is, what are the odds of you going?" TJ asked.

"I'm a champion. I have to defend my title," Spinelli replied, then adding haughtily, "And you're coming too."

"Spin," TJ sighed, pulling a t-shirt over his head and eyeing his girlfriend as she changed into her pajamas. "You know what this means, right?"

"We had to go back sometime," she shrugged.

"No. I thought we had it all planned out. We would never go back. What happened to that plan?" Spinelli shrugged again, changing into another old T-shirt she'd taken from TJ and offering him a crooked smile.

"Our families are there. Our parents...our past..." Spinelli trailed off, her eyes downcast. Their past wasn't a favorite conversation, especially with TJ.

"Forget about the tournament," TJ begged her, "I don't want to go back. You don't want to go back. Should we really return somewhere we don't want to be?"

"I kind of do want to go back," Spinelli replied quietly, "Don't hold me to this, Teej, but I kind of miss my parents, and the old town, and Kelso's. You remember Kelso's."

"Yeah. I haven't found a place yet that sells milkshakes as good as Kelso's," TJ nodded, his eyes glazed over reminiscently. "It was where we had our first date."

"And have you read the letter from your mom, yet?"

"I skimmed it. Just crap about how they're doing and questions."

"Well, don't you want to see her face?" Spinelli demanded.

"Sort of...I even wish I could see Becky once in awhile," TJ confirmed. Spinelli smiled wryly at him. "Alright, Spinelli, let's go home. I'll call my mom in the morning."

"Maybe we can stay with them," Spinelli suggested, "If not, the tournament people will put us up in a hotel."

"My parents have been begging me to come visit, they'll put us up. We can go a few days early, so you can see your parents. That'll make everyone happy," TJ said. Everyone but him, that is.

"That sounds good to me," Spinelli replied, crawling into their bed, "I can't believe we're going back...after what happened..."

"I don't really want to talk about. Besides, that was nearly fifteen years ago," TJ said, slipping beneath the covers next to Spinelli and reaching to flick off the light.

"I know, Teej. It was a long time ago...it's probably all been forgotten," Spinelli nodded, snuggling next to him, "Going back won't be that hard."

The next few days, TJ and Spinelli spent preparing for their trip. TJ called his parents, who were overjoyed with the news that after five years he would be returning home with Spinelli in tow. They said they would tell Spinelli's parents, but TJ told them not to. Spinelli wanted to surprise her folks. And, to tell the truth, she hadn't had any communication with her parents since she left town with TJ.

TJ made certain that Chief knew he would be leaving and where he could be reached. He explained that he was doing research for the article he had to write. Spinelli talked to her teachers, and took the time off from work. They weren't too upset with the short notice; Spinelli often took time off for kickboxing tournaments, gallery openings, and such. They were flexible, and understanding.

It was early Saturday morning when Spinelli and TJ woke up to leave for their trip. They'd booked a short flight and had a car already rented and waiting for them at the airport upon their arrival. Before they left, TJ called his parents to let them know they were on their way.

"Good, we pulled out the trolley bed for yourself, TJ, and Ashley can bunk in your old room," Mr. Dettwieler said, "And we didn't let on to her parents that you were both coming...not in the least."

"Swell, dad," TJ muttered, thinking unhappily of the next week sleeping alone on the small unsteady metal frame of the trolley bed while thoughts of his beautiful girlfriend sleeping in his old room, in his old bed, most likely floated through his mind. "We'll be there in about five, six hours."

"Great," was the exuberant reply, "We'll see you then."

"Okay, bye dad," TJ said.

"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you," Mr. Dettweiler said, calling his son back to the line, "There've actually been a lot of visitors returning home this week. Some of your old friends are going to be in town," TJ's mind reeled. Old friends? Like who? "For instance, I ran into the LaSalles and they told me Vincent was coming in for the weekend, as he always does, except he would be staying for an extended length of time this weekend, nearly a week longer for a game. You remember Vincent, right? You two were nearly inseparable all through grade school."

"Yeah, dad," TJ mumbled, rolling his eyes. TJ hadn't actually spoken to Vince since 6th grade, but his parents still always thought of them as the best of friends. TJ already decided at that moment to avoid any confrontations with Vince at all costs.

"We made plans with the LaSalles for dinner, so you and Vincent can catch up," TJ's dad was saying. TJ groaned silently. There went the avoiding Vince plan. "Can you imagine? Their son visits them every weekend."

"That's good that he can do that," TJ replied, imagining strangling Vince and silently cursing his name. "I have to go if Spinelli and me are going to make our flight."

They said their goodbyes and TJ hung up the phone, sighing haggardly and making his way to the door where Spinelli stood waiting. She was holding a heavy backpack, which TJ relieved her of, opening the door and moving aside so she could step through. She would have protested, except she was half-asleep and yawned instead of yelling angrily at him for treating her like a weak girl. TJ thought of telling her what his father said about Vince, but changed his mind. He would just have to make sure she was with her parents the night of that scheduled dinner. Though, he hadn't even asked what day it would be on.

"The taxi's waiting downstairs," Spinelli said, slipping her hand in his as they made their way out of their apartment.

They both slid into the taxicab silently and drove soundlessly to the airport. TJ practically had to drag Spinelli to their gate and lead her onto the plane. They took their seats, TJ buckling Spinelli in, as she never could figure out the plane seatbelts. Even before the plane had taken off, Spinelli was out like a lamp, her head resting on TJ's shoulder. He let her sleep, staring out the window and wrapping an arm about her. It was 6:30 after all, and she hadn't really slept the night before. TJ had woken somewhere around midnight to find her gone from their bed. He searched the entirety of the apartment finding her in their second room turned into a personal gym and private studio for Spinelli's use. She had been punching the hanging bag; her forehead dabbled in glistening beads of sweat. TJ had watched for a moment, caught up in the beauty of her anger, her sadness, her graceful motions. He hadn't dared say anything, leaving her there. She'd seemed to be in her own world, on a different plane of existence, untouchable.

When Spinelli was fully awake nearly two - three hours later, she demanded some alcohol, which TJ told her she couldn't have and the flight attendant informed them wasn't available so early in the morning.

"I would like to be drunk," Spinelli snapped at the flight attendant.

"The bar isn't open until three, but I can bring you some coffee," the attendant, who's nametag read Margie, said.

"Spin, I don't want you drinking anyways," TJ told her.

"You never let me get drunk, Teej, now stay out of this," she said calmly, then turned her angry attention back to the woman, Margie, "I would like the strongest alcohol you have on this plane." Margie just glanced at TJ, giving him a 'she's your girlfriend' look.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, not sure what else to say. The woman shrugged, leaving.

"I hope she's leaving to get me a drink," Spinelli muttered, "No alcohol before three, what kind of policy is that anyways?"

"You worried?" TJ asked, attempting to change the subject. Spinelli didn't drink much anymore, not since they graduated from high school. She used to party hard back then, until TJ gave her an ultimatum, him or booze. Her choice is obvious. "About seeing your parents, I mean."

"Kind of...that reminds me. We can't act like a couple around them," Spinelli said. TJ narrowed his eyes at her.

"Why?" he questioned, positive that he wasn't going to like the answer. Spinelli fidgeted in her seat, avoiding his gaze and twisting a strand of hair about her finger.

"Because they don't know about us..."she answered sheepishly, glancing over to him.

"Spinelli," TJ groaned, "How long have we been going out? Jeez...wait...doesn't your brother, Joey, know about us?"

"Yeah, that brings me to another thing, Teej," she mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in her chair, "If you happen to see my brother around town or something, keep a low profile and get out of there as fast as you can."

"What? Why? You're brother and I get along fine."

"Yeah, well that was before I left with you," she explained, "He kind of told me before we left that if I didn't stay and dump you that...well...that if he ever saw you again...he'd kind of...well...sort of...kill you."

"Oh," TJ gulped. He'd forgotten how overprotective Spinelli's brother was of her, "Now I need a drink."

"Sorry," she chuckled nervously. They fell silent again.

How could Spinelli's parents not know about them, TJ wondered. He began to think back to all those years they'd been a couple back in their old hometown. They'd never really hung out at her house as a couple. Spinelli never let him in when her parents were home. TJ sighed. And it wasn't uncommon before for them to hang out at night and all hours of the day, so her parents never would question their dates or anything. Maybe it was possible that her parents didn't know.

Finally, Spinelli leaned against TJ closing her eyes and laying her hand against his thigh. "What'll my parents say about me?" she wondered aloud, "Will they think I wasted my life?"

"You?" TJ laughed, "Waste your life? You've done everything possible with your life. Half the time I feel like I'm just standing back watching you run like mad living your life to the fullest extent possible."

"That's not true," she argued, "I'm a waitress at a crappy diner, you're a writer for High Society magazine."

"But that's not what I wanted to do with my life," TJ protested, "You've always done everything you wanted to do. You wanted to race motorcycles so you did. You wanted to fly planes, so you got your license and you did. You wanted to be in a band, you learned an instrument and you did. You wanted to be an artist, so you picked up a paintbrush and you are. If your parents aren't proud of you...then they don't know how great their daughter is."

"I couldn't have done any of that without you, Teej," she shrugged, "You always pushed me to do whatever I got into."

"Well, then, I don't want to hear you talking about how you 'wasted' your life," TJ said, and as far as he was concerned, that ended the conversation.

They spent the rest of their flight chatting about other things then their hometown. They talked about work and their friends in New York. It seemed that the anxiety hanging over them had disappeared as they talked excitedly about their lives outside of the small town they'd grown up in. But when they finally landed in the airport, they were silent again, walking out of the plane towards the car rental place.

TJ drove, as Spinelli sat quietly beside him. They seemed entranced staring out as the suburbs of their youth rolled by. The streets weren't exceptionally busy, which was normal for the small town. It seemed almost eerie driving by the businesses, through the housing developments, watching ghosts of their past run by. Not much had changed since those five years ago when they'd left the town behind.

"There's a new mart," Spinelli noted, breaking their respectful silence.

"Yeah, and it looks like the high school got a new track put in," TJ replied.

"Look, there's Kelso's, you want to stop for a milkshake?" Spinelli asked.

"I don't know, Spin...we are running kind of late," TJ mumbled. Spinelli pouted and he quickly added, "We'll have plenty of time later." She nodded, her eyes on the small nook at the side of the road. She thought she saw a lumbering young man walk out of Kelso's that seemed familiar, with messy straw blonde hair and a slight bulk. He reminded her of someone. She turned her head to study him, as he walked down the street.

"Mikey...?" she mouthed.

They were silent as they pulled onto the familiar street that they grew up on, parking in front of a tall white house with a well maintained lawn. The mailbox in front read Dettwieler. They sat staring in awe-filled discomfort. TJ felt Spinelli's soft hand encompass his own.

"We're doing good," she encouraged him, "We're here aren't we?"

"Going in will be the hardest part," he sighed.

They saw the front door open and a woman peek her head out.

"Honey, they're here," the woman called into the house before running out to the car. For a moment, TJ and Spinelli watched the plump woman run to them grinning widely. Then, taking deep breaths, they swung their respective doors open and stepped out, smiles plastered on their faces. Spinelli was closest, so the woman ran to her first, grabbing her in a tight embrace.

"Hey, Mrs. Dettwieler," Spinelli greeted, struggling to get some breath from the tight hug and noticing TJ back off slowly from the corner of her eye, staring a little horrified as his mother seemed to squeeze the life from his girlfriend. Way to save the girl you love, she scowled at him.

"Oh, it's so good to see you, little Ashley Spinelli. Look how you've grown! It's no wonder you stole our little boy's heart," Mrs. Dettwieler squealed.

"Thanks...I think...TJ's...grown...too," Spinelli struggled to say. Hearing that, Mrs. Dettwieler released Spinelli and reeled on her son.

"So he has! Get over here and give you're mom a hug," she cried.

"Yeah, Teej," Spinelli teased, "Give you're mom a hug." TJ shot her a look of daggers as he too had arms thrust about him in a backbreaking hold.

"Oh...my baby's come home," Mrs. Dettwieler crooned, squeezing the air from TJ's lungs before letting him go. She patted his stomach while saying motherly, "You've lost weight. Don't you feed him, Ashley? Well, he's home now, so we can fix that right up with some of my good cooking." Spinelli sighed, as TJ offered her an apologetic look.

"I brought the camera," Mr. Dettwieler called, rushing out of the house with said shiny device clutched in his hand. He raised it up and snapped a quick picture of Spinelli and TJ breathless and Mrs. Dettwieler shooting him an unhappy glare. "It's one of those new digital cameras," he said proudly, "Top of the line."

"Oh, stop it, honey. They just got here; they're probably tired from the flight. Let 'em get in the house and take a breather," Mrs. Dettwieler argued, pushing her husband back to the front door. "Come on kids," she called over her shoulder, "We'll get your bags after we've chatted."

"That wasn't so bad," Spinelli said grinning somewhat at TJ whose checks were flushed and hair was a mess.

"Just wait until we get to your parents' house," he warned.

"You probably noticed the new mart," Mrs. Dettwieler was saying, bringing everyone a glass of lemonade. "It's not as exciting as anything that happens in New York, but it's news to us."

"Tell us about how you're doing there in New York," Mr. Dettwieler encouraged, "Your letters are never very descriptive."

"We have a nice apartment," TJ told them, "That's hard to find in New York."

"TJ's doing well at work," Spinelli pitched in as TJ shot her a threatening look, "The boss gives him the respect he deserves." Not the job thing again, TJ winced.

"Oh, I have every one of your articles," Mrs. Dettwieler exclaimed, "I kept them all." She smiled proudly at her son. He grimaced. "What about you, Ashley, keeping those grades up?"

"Something like that," she mumbled.

"Spinelli's spectacular, mom," TJ broke in as Spinelli shot him a curious glare. What was he getting at? "Her paintings are featured in a popular gallery. She just sold one of them for...what was it...13,000? She's here for a kickboxing tournament, too."

"Oh, kickboxing. I remember when you took that up. Only one instructor in town and he was juggling that with those ballet classes he taught," Mr. Dettwieler chuckled, "Weren't you taking those, too?"

"Well, I remember when you sent TJ home in the 2nd grade with a black eye," Mrs. Dettwieler said, frowning disapprovingly at the young girl sitting uncomfortably next to her son, "A young lady should have her mind on other things than fighting. Career, family...children," she looked dreamy eyed and TJ groaned.

"MOM!" he cried, seeing Spinelli's eyes go wide at what that statement could possibly mean.

"What? A woman my age likes to think about grandchildren," Mrs. Dettwieler protested, and Spinelli moaned inwardly realizing now where this conversation was going.

"We're not even married, mom. We haven't even talked about that, yet. One thing at a time, jeez," TJ cried.

"I guess you're right...Ashley isn't my daughter-in-law, yet," Mrs. Dettwieler agreed with...was that hopefulness?

"Maybe we should go get lunch," Spinelli suggested, looking a bit pale and unhappy. TJ was beginning to understand why she'd never told her parents about them.

"Well, the LaSalles are coming over for dinner tonight, so I think we should maybe eat something small here," Mrs. Dettwieler said.

"The LaSalles?" Spinelli questioned as TJ slapped his forehead. Silently scolding himself for not taking better precautions to avoid the subject, and wishing his parents weren't his parents. Tonight? How could they schedule that dinner so soon? Did they somehow know that he was going to, at the very least, weasel a way out for Spinelli?

"Yes, didn't TJ tell you? Their son Vincent is going to be in town. It'll be like a little reunion for the three of you. Now, if only your other little friends were in town, like...oh...you remember better than me, sweetheart," Mr. Dettwieler laughed.

"The Blumberg boy, for instance, oh...and little Gretchen Grundler. TJ had quite the little crush on her," Mrs. Dettwieler was saying.

"Did he really," Spinelli replied sharply, glowering at TJ and crossing her arms in front of her chest. He chuckled nervously.

"Mom," he whispered roughly.

"Well, he never said anything...but a mother can tell. She was such a sweet lady-like young girl. It's too bad," Mrs. Dettwieler said, giving Spinelli an odd look, "Oh...there was another one, too. What was his name...um...oh yes, I remember, it was Gus."

The truth be told, Spinelli and TJ hadn't spoken to any of the old gang since sixth grade. They'd had a falling out back then that even TJ couldn't remember the exact details of, but they all could recall what it was about. It was only a short time later, after that fight that they all found themselves heading in different directions. Gus's father was re-stationed to Alaska at the start of the sixth grade, which meant the Griswold family, was on the move again and Gus was headed for his new school. Then Gretchen's parents got a divorce and her mother gained custody. So when her mother moved to California, Gretchen was dragged along; that was during the summer of sixth grade. In the middle of eighth grade, Mikey was accepted into a prestigious performing arts school somewhere in Europe. He had only come back to visit his parents over the summer, but the gap between him and the gang was already huge then as it is. He eventually stopped coming back when he was older. And then there was Vince who became a 'jock' as soon as he hit middle school and was automatically better than everyone else. He got a big head about it, and the gang wasn't there to bring him back down to earth like they used to. He eventually was scouted by a small academy that wanted him on their basketball team at all costs. So he left to attend that school during their high school years. TJ and Spinelli were the only ones who stuck together and only because of how strongly they found themselves feeling for one another. No matter what, TJ had decided back then, he was keeping Spinelli.

"Grundler...Grundler...oh yes that reminds me, I was speaking to Mr. Grundler the other day...ran into him at the gas pump," Mr. Dettwieler said, "He said that Gretchen was going to be in town this week as well, perhaps we can invite her to the dinner, too."

"That sounds like a great idea. I'll call now," Mrs. Dettwieler said, rushing from the room before any protests could be made. TJ and Spinelli exchanged glances. Gretchen and Vince were going to be in town at the same time as them, what were the odds of that?

"Mr. Grundler?" they heard Mrs. Dettwieler saying in the other room, "Yes, this is Mrs. Dettwieler...uh-huh...I was wondering if..."

"So, when do you plan on seeing your parents, Ashley?" Mr. Dettwieler asked.

"I don't know," Spinelli answered, "Maybe tomorrow."

"I wouldn't put it off too long. We went out with them the other night. They do miss you, Ashley. Even with your brother, Joseph back," Mr. Dettwieler said, "It was so difficult not to tell them that you were coming."

"Maybe we should start unloading our stuff," TJ suggested, grabbing Spinelli's hand and dragging her to the door.

"I'll help," Mr. Dettwieler called.

"No, that's alright dad," TJ told him, "I'd feel better if Spinelli and I took care of it."

"If you're sure," Mr. Dettwieler trailed after them.

TJ closed the door gently behind them, and then turned to meet Spinelli's eyes.

"We could have used his help, Teej," she grumbled.

"I know," he said, "But I needed to talk to you. Gretchen...Vince? Isn't it a little strange that they're both in town now...the same time we are."

"I don't know," she replied nervously, walking down to the car and popping the trunk open. TJ followed, grabbing the first bag.

"It seems an odd coincidence is all," he muttered. He lifted another bag only for a sheet of brown paper to flutter to the ground. He bent, picking it up and turning inquiringly towards Spinelli. "Why'd you bring this?" Spinelli turned to him, looking at the envelope in his hand, knowing all too well what it contained.

"I didn't," she answered, a bit confused, "At least, I don't think I did. Maybe I put it with our things, accidentally. I'd forgotten about it, actually."

"I did too," TJ replied, shoving it in his back pocket. They continued pulling their luggage out in silence, Spinelli heading for the door laden with bags. TJ stopped her, touching her arm. She turned to him. "Go see your parents tonight."

"Well, then I'd miss the..." she began, then raised an eyebrow at him in understanding, "No way, Teej. I ain't abandoning you to dinner with LaSalle and Grundler. Besides...I was kind of thinking...I want you to come with me when I go see my parents." TJ eyed her curiously.

"You going to tell them about us?" he asked, picking up the rest of their luggage.

"Maybe..." she mumbled in reply. He scowled at her. "Fine, fine!" She cried, kissing his cheek, "I'll give 'em all the gruesome details." TJ blushed. He loved how she could still make him do that.

"You don't have to tell them everything," he said as they made their way back into the house.

"Mr. Grundler said they'd be more than happy to come to dinner here," Mrs. Dettwieler greeted them at the door, "Well...he didn't actually consult Gretchen about it, but he wants to surprise her," she frowned at the two youths before her towing their bags through the door, "Why didn't you wait for your father and me to help?" she asked TJ. He sighed. If he didn't survive this dinner, it would be one hell of a week trying to survive his parents.

END A/N: I promise the next chapter will get somewhere...Next time, we've got a full-fledged reunion of the gang...oh, and an explaination as to why they fell apart...and will the little brown envelope be brought up again? I wonder...

Please review so I know what you think, because I write for the audience as much as for myself.

And, again, please excuse any grammatical and typing errors. I look it over before I post it, but I'm always so excited and in such a rush to get it up that I miss some things.

Thanks for reading!