A/N: All right, after nearly a one year sabbatical, I am BACK! College life has spoiled me. I cannot, repeat, cannot even begin to tell you how sorry I am, especially to those who have been diligently waiting an update (you've all probably given up and I don't blame you) and those who were once my faithful reviewers. I deserve to be flogged, whipped, and spend a month in Joanne's company. Okay that didn't sound quite right, but anyway I'm here to stay. From now on, I am going to sit my lazy ass in from of the computer and type up new chapters on a weekly basis until this story is finished. I am a reformed author. Reviews are still the fuel for this story and now more than ever appreciated. But since I've been such a terrible updater I'll keep posting new chapters anyway just to punish myself. Again, I know I've been saying this a lot, but I'm SO SORRY!

"Ian!" Stephanie struggled with the weight of Joanne's body. "Aren't you going to help me lift her onto the sofa?"

"What, and contaminate myself?" Ian rested his head against the sofa cushions and closed his eyes, the perfect picture of a pharaoh bored with his court. "Besides, it's not like Hoer there is in any pain," Ian continued condescendingly. "And if you're so concerned, just prop some throw pillows under her ungrateful head."

"Lazy ass," muttered Stephanie. Without so much as a second thought, she tried to transport the unconscious SBC President onto the sofa. Then, realizing she lacked the man-power to even heave Joanne's legs, Stephanie gave up with a groan of frustration and reluctantly gathered every throw pillow in the room, mumbling incoherently as she did so.

Ian smiled all too innocently when, after finishing her task, Stephanie plopped her grumbling self as far away from him as possible on the sofa. With unmasked amusement in his eyes, he shifted an inch closer. Stephanie backed away until she was half-sitting, half-sliding on the sofa arm. Laughter glittered Ian's voice as he said, "Geez, don't tell me you're going to be sore at me all day." Ian shifted closer again; Stephanie merely turned her head and crossed her arms, ignoring him. "C'mon Steph. Don't be like that." Ian frowned in mild concern, all traces of a smile gone from his face. And with blue eyes wide as a worried child, he said in the most pathetic, pleading tone, "Stephanie?"

Stephanie kept her head turned and her eyes averted; however, she knew she couldn't resist that sad, forlorn sound in his voice when he'd said her name, her full name. What girl can? Well, maybe several, Stephanie conceded. She was a bleeding-heart and she knew it. The way Ian said her name as though she was his personal Jesus made Stephanie turn around with the intention of giving him a light reprimand and then forgiving him.

But the instant she turned, Ian pounced on her with the full force of a train wreck and trapped her between him and the sofa arm. He was smiling like the Cheshire cat as Stephanie screamed and struggled to break free.

"Get off me, Ian!" Stephanie shouted as she half-heartedly pushed at his shoulder, knowing all the while that her efforts were useless. "Let me up now or I swear I'll—"

"You'll what?" Ian grinned, adjusting his arms so that he covered Stephanie in a low push-up position. "Keep doing those sexy squirming motions I like so much?" As if to convey his point, Ian lowered himself until he was nearly chest-to-chest with Stephanie and wiggled until he was practically straddling her with his longer legs.

Stephanie gasped in horror, placing both her hands on Ian's chest in the desperate hope of preventing him from leaning down any closer. "What the hell do you think you're doing!"

Ian only raised a questioning eyebrow in reply, as though he didn't understand the cause for his friend's outburst. But his side-smile and leering gaze as he looked Stephanie over from hips to breast suggested he knew otherwise.

"What am I doing, Steph?" Ian purred, deliberately dropping his voice a few octaves. "Am I turning you on and you're just too afraid to admit it?" Before Stephanie could reply with a snappy comeback, Ian bent his head down to nibble at her earlobe, chuckling mischievously when he felt her body go rigid with surprised shock. "Or could it be that your mom stuffed you with so much 'my body is a temple' shit that you'll be a spinster long before you lose your virginity?"

Utterly dumbfounded and at a lack for words, the only sound that came out of Stephanie's mouth was an incredulous, "Huh?"

Ian sighed in exasperation and raised himself slightly on his propped arms. Though not enough to lend Stephanie any chance of escape. "I can't believe you, Steph. You totally ruined the soap opera moment."

Silence for a moment. Then, as though on cue, . . . "Fuck you Ian," Stephanie said vehemently though a small trickle of laughter began to seep into her eyes. "I can't believe you tricked me."

"Well, can I help it if gullible is written all over you," Ian said languidly as he lowered himself again. Stephanie propped her hands on his chest to stop him. "C'mon Steph, haven't you ever heard of casual sex between friends?" He smiled excitedly like a kid who had suddenly come up with a brilliant idea. "Let's go for a quickie before Hoer wakes up."

Stephanie half-laughed and shook her head. "Not in this lifetime. Maybe when I'm thirty-five and still a virgin then I'll think about it."

"Thirty-five! Babe, you might as well join the convent and marry the big JC. Though. . ." Ian ran his fingers slowly down Stephanie's side, ". . . I'd hate to see all this go to waste." Stephanie was about to push his sneaky hand away when suddenly, Ian's lazy strokes turned into a full-scale tickle attack, throwing Stephanie into a fit of unrestrained laughter and giggling.

"Ian. . .Stop! I—" Stephanie tried to wrestle herself free only to have Ian blow several loud and wet raspberries over her exposed stomach. She continued to laugh and squeal helplessly, pleading Ian to stop until she heard a faint groan from the floor. Ian glanced at the moving lump on the floor that was Joanne and cringed.

"Ugh, even unconscious she's a pain in the ass. I swear she makes Freddy Kugar look like the hottest looking thing on the planet." He shook his head. "You know what, you deal with Hoer. I can't even stand to be in the same room as her." With that, he leapt off the sofa and darted into the kitchen like all the demons of hell were chasing after him

Stephanie sighed just as another groan came from Joanne. She reluctantly slid down the sofa and helped prop Joanne against the bottom cushions. "You all right, Joanne?" she asked when Joanne finally opened her eyes.

"Gay?" Joanne croaked, a hand thrown dramatically over her head. "He's. . .gay?" She looked at Stephanie as though to confirm she wasn't hallucinating. At Stephanie's nod, she moaned. "Oh why me? I've broken his heart and now I'm being punished with another guy turning fag. What have I ever done to deserve this?"

"Fucking drama queen." Ian's voice from the kitchen doorway caught both their attention. "Always thinking it's all about you. Just for the record, I didn't turn gay because we broke up. I just so happen to like having my ass fucked by a guy." He grinned at Joanne's stunned silence. "You should try it sometime. Kinda nice, really. All warm and tight. You need a lot of lube though or your partner might rip your rectum, but other than that. . ." His eyes sparkled when Joanne grimaced and swallowed a whimper of disgust. "Gee, you look kinda thirsty, Joanne. Want something to drink?"

Uh oh, Stephanie thought. She didn't like that weird spark in Ian's eye.

"Yes. Please. Something with alcohol if you have it." Joanne closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat cushions. "I'm having a really bad headache."

"I got just the thing." Ian smiled, then pulled out a bottle Smirnoff Ice from behind his back. "It uh hasn't been refrigerated yet, so it's still a little warm. Hope ya don't mind."

"Just give it me."

Stephanie narrowed her eyes suspiciously as Ian passed the warm Smirnoff Ice to Joanne's demanding hand. She was about to ask just where did he get that bottle until Ian tossed her a gleaming, censored look, which answered all her suspicions. She gulped, eyes wide in disbelief as Joanne twisted off the cap and downed the wine cooler that had journey down Ian's pants. Well, what Joanne doesn't know can't hurt her.

"So Joanne, um just out of curiosity why are you here?" Stephanie asked tentatively once Joanne got her bearings.

Joanne took another drag from the bottle and smiled. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot. To let you guys know that I volunteered you two for the Powell Spirit Rally tomorrow."

"You what!" Stephanie and Ian shouted in unison, then stared at each other, absolute horror on their faces.

"Mm hmm," Joanne said cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to their outburst. "We couldn't find anyone to fill in for Eugene on the Dunk-A-Geek—so I said Stephanie could do it. Hope you don't mind? And Kyle said he was having another herpes outbreak so he couldn't be Dickie, the bulldog mascot—That's yours Ian."

"Has Dickie even ever been washed?" Ian demanded.

Joanne pursed her lips and puckered her tweezed brows. "No, of course not. SBC said it costs too much to have Dickie dry-cleaned. Besides why should we? Only Kyle and Lenny ever wear the costume."

"Then why can't you get Lenny to do it!"

"Because Lenny just found out the little mushroom thingies that have been growing on his penis for the past two weeks were genital warts."

"Christ!" Ian smacked a hand over his face. He shook his head adamantly. "No. Hell fucking no. I am not going anywhere near that nasty, germ-invested, disease-ridden mutant dog. If I'm going to get an STI it had better be from a night of outstanding sex and not from Dickie The Mutt."

"Same here," Stephanie piped in. "I don't wanna sit on a cold platform over pond water while people try to drown me. I can't even swim!"

"Well, unless the both of you suddenly disappear off the face of the earth, you'd better show up. You're on the volunteer list and if you skip, the Dean will

Stephanie sighed, defeated while Ian looked like he wanted to crush Joanne's neck.

Just then, clunky footsteps thumped awkwardly down the stairs. Everyone turned to the figure dressed in a ketchup-and-mustard stained white t-shirt and a pair of wrinkled jeans cluttered with grass stains. His shoulders filled the shirt to perfection, the thin cotton spanning his wet chest and outlining his nipples. His feet were stuffed into heavy work boots and his striking red hair flopped in an attractive wet mass on top his head.

"Oh my," Joanne whispered. Her eyes glazed over, her mouth gaped open, and a bead of drool was forming at the corner of her painted lips.

Stephanie edged closer to Ian and spoke quietly so Joanne wouldn't hear. "You made him take a shower and then dressed him your dirty laundry?"

Ian shrugged, his expression about as glazed over as Joanne's. "I was trying to make him look like a disgusting, unattractive slob."

"Well, you failed miserably!" Stephanie whisper-shouted. "He looks more like construction worker from a male strip mall."

"Yeah, he does, doesn't he?" Ian mused distractedly, smiling.