"Accepting Irony."

A/N: I do not own the Year of Secret Assignments. If I did, I would write a sequel.

Starrflame: I am about to jump to your profile to see if you've posted your story. grins evily and picks up the Frying Pan of Doom Just in case. :P

Chinsky: Muahah. I can't believe it was the summer when I thought of this story, but I can remember it exactly. I was lying on a beach towel, burning, and reading the part about the fake 'legal hearing' and Bindy was like 'That's Cassie, you have to be nice to her 'cause her dad died last year.' And Paul looks over at her and their eyes meet. I was all 'Woo-hoo! Potential romance!' sighs I see potential romance in EVERYTHING...

Bitter Twilight: Eeeeeh..sorry for the long wait.

Luny Time: Actually, this update is 'cause of you...and the fact that I got YOSA for my birthday and was reminded this fic existed..

Enjoy!

The first thing Seb Mantegna thought when he opened his eyes was that he couldn't breathe through his mouth. The next thought consisted of the warm bundle attached to his side; he finally identified the hair in his mouth to be Lydia's. His girlfriend tended to take up the whole bed when she slept, arms and legs thrown to all sides, leaving very little room for him. But then again, this was her bed, so he didn't dare tell her how to sleep. Lydia had a very threatening appeal.

"Someone needs to brush their teeth." He whispered hoarsely, after gracefully spitting her dark strands from his mouth. "And quickly, before I'm gassed to death."

"Someone needs to shut up and get me coffee." Lydia's voice muttered from his shoulder and he grinned despite himself.

"Hangover?" He bent his head to place a kiss on her cheek. "We were that drunk?"

"You're in my bed." Lydia raised her head, green eyes grinning out from a tired face. "What do you think?"

"You've wounded me." He sniffed, shoving her to the other side of the bed and sitting up. His loving girlfriend exhaled in his direction and dismissed him as she rolled on to her side and presumedly went back to sleep. Seb rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her cheek repeatedly until she shoved him away in annoyance.

"Okay, okay!" She sat up, running a hand through her hair. "I'm up."

"Thank you." He smiled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"And why are we getting up at..." She glanced at the clock that rested on her bed side table. "Seven thirty on this fine Saturday morning?"

"One: Do you know how violently your father would react if he realized I had spent the night?"

"My mother would defend you." Lydia protested, grinning again.

"And two," He stressed, ignoring her teasing. "We need to go to Cass'."

Lydia yawned loudly, pulling a jacket over the shirt she hadn't bother to change out of the night before. Seb took the time to examin her exposed midriff with relish, something Lydia rudely interrupted by hissing at him once she noticed. He shrugged; being her faithfully whipped boyfriend did not make him any less male.

"I left my sweater there last night," He explained, as he opened her bedroom door for her in a mock attempt to be gentlemanly. "And since my mother bought it for me, she'll be watching to see if I'm wearing it when I come home."

"Which you were supposed to do last night," Lydia said, pushing open her back door and squeaking as the sunlight hit her eyes. "She's probably worried sick."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close as they walked down the sidewalk, "She knows you take good care of me."

"You're such a goon." She accused, although she was smiling.

"Your goon," He agreed, brushing his lips over the side of hers. "Bound for eternity; solely for the purpose of doing your bidding."

"All at the small cost of getting into my pants." She added, her tone wry.

Seb considered this, and for a moment Lydia really thought he had taken her comment seriously. She could see Cassie's house at the end of the street, and she deeply considered running for it before her boyfriend got any lecherous ideas.

"Is that an option?" He cackled, as she smacked him in the chest.

"You're a fast learner." Lydia wrapped her own arm around his waist, delighting Seb with such a small touch. "Soon, you'll be professionally cynical and I'll be able to cut your padawan braid off."

"Obi-Wan Jaackson-Oberman." He chuckled. "Nice ring, it has."

"Nah." Lydia tilted her face and nipped his chin. "I'm Darth Vader and you know it."

This time, she really did run for Cassie's house, followed closely by a peeved Seb Yoda.

Cassie plunged her hands deeper into the soapy water in the kitchen sink, pulling out a few pieces of cutlery and scrubbing them. She was soaked up to her elbows, a few wet-spots on the bottom of her shirt. Her fingers ached, and the soap made her skin itchy, but she didn't care. Working was one of her favorite ways to stop thinking about something troublesome. And Paul Wilson, who was leaning against her kitchen door was very troublesome, if she had anything to say about it.

"Why didn't you tell me about your father?" He asked, causing her to jump, both at the fact that he had spoken and the extremely personal question.

"Didn't seem important." She replied angrily, scrubbing the frying pan extra hard and imagining his face. "Glad I didn't."

He shrugged. "I would have thought that would have been something you would talk about. Since getting over your father was the reason you wrote to me in the first place."

"Yeah." She seethed, slamming the soap-drenched pan into the dish strainer. "I wrote to you trying to make myself less insane. What wonderful fortune that my letter ended up going to you."

"I tried to get you to shut up." He replied, as if this justified his actions at all. "So don't blame this on me."

"Don't blame this on you?" She yelled, whirling on Paul with such ferocity he was sure that she was going to pick up the frying pan and hit him with it. "Do you realize what you did to me?"

"I didn't do anything to you." He said cooly, straightening from the door. "You did this all to yourself."

"It was a sick fantasy, wasn't it?" She growled, eyes flaming as she stared at him hard. "Some inner goal for you to get back at some Ashbury girl who treated you badly."

"That has nothing to do with it." His voice, usually so well contained, was beginning to rise. "You didn't get the point at the start of term. I didn't want to write some Ashbury slag."

"Oh, great job, Paul!" She faltered, the use of his name sounding so umfamilar on her lips. "Are you proud? Does it seem to you that I've learned my lesson?"

He opened his mouth and found that no words would come out. This girl that he had hated but hadn't known in person stood in front of him, radiating fury and absolutely no signs of weakness. Ashbury girls were stacked, he had to admit. None of the girls at Brookfeild would talk to him like this.

"It worked, right?" He murmured, taking a step toward her. "It didn't take me long to gain your trust."

And suddenly, she was flying at him. Tiny fists gripped the front of his–her–shirt and shoved him full force against the wall. There she pinned him, angry tears surfacing in her eyes and leaving him completely surprised. She was strong, although he could have easily shoved her off. Yet something about her reaction or the fact that she had attacked him; sweet, kind and generous Cassie, left him helpless.

"I hate you." She hissed, face right up in his. "You're nothing but a sick, sorry coward who needs to hide behind a pretty face to get what he wants. I've had a hard time too, but you didn't see me using someone as an emotional punching bag."

"You're wrong." He murmured, the frizy hairs escaping her pony tail brushing against his skin, making him feel oddly calm.

"What?" She replied, her eyes losing some of that fire and her grip on his–her– shirt becoming slightly looser as she realized what she had done.

"You're wrong." He repeated slowly. "You were using me, Cass. Can you really say you weren't aware of that?"

They stared at eachother; the dishwasher hummed, the clock ticked. Cassie was lost in the insanity of it all, in her unusally rash behavior, the fact that he was in her house. Why was this happening? Why wouldn't difficulties and complications just leave her alone?

She vaguely noticed that his head was twitching ever so slightly. Was he rubbing his face against her hair? She only had a second before the back screen door slid open, and voices assaulted the quiet they had fallen into.

"Cass!"

She turned; eyes dreading what she thought they would never dread to see. Lydia and Seb stood in the doorway, both of them staring at herand Paul in shock. She took a step back, speechless to the whole situation. She glanced at two of her greatest friends and for reasons she couldn't explain, did not like what she saw.

Seb looking ready to kill.

Wow, this was random. Sorry for the long wait, my faithful readers. I had, quite frankly, forgotten about this story. Please forgive me!

Well?