"What the hell happened to you?" Craig demanded when he surveyed Ben the following morning. Having not gotten any answer at his friend's door, he had knocked on Evelyn's, only to be greeted by someone who looked more like a puffed up whale than a person.

"Phillips," Evelyn filled him in quickly.

"I've told you before, Ben," Craig said, "that white knight act of yours will get you nowhere. What are you going to do?"

"Nothing," Ben replied, rubbing his jaw.

"I've got a good mind to go and give him what for," Evelyn said darkly from where she was sitting on the edge of the easy chair.

"No Evelyn, don't," Ben pulled himself up into a sitting position.

"She's not going to," Craig said, "wouldn't want to upstage you, would she?" He grinned at Ben, who managed a small smile in return. "So I take it you're not coming to class then?"

"I most certainly am," Ben tried to stand up, but the pain was too great and he slumped back onto the bed.

"You're not going anywhere," Evelyn told him sternly, "You're staying right here."

"Hear that?" Craig raised his eyebrows, "Florence Nightingale has spoken."

"Shut up," Evelyn said crossly. "Go and take notes for us."

"Both of you?" Craig looked between them.

"Someone's got to keep an eye on him," Evelyn said.

SSSS

Later that afternoon, Craig returned with a fistful of notes which Evelyn promised to copy. He also was the bearer of bad news. "Kellerman stopped me in the corridor and asked me about why you haven't been going to real estate lectures."

Evelyn rolled her eyes, "Maybe because every time he opens his mouth he puts me to sleep."

"You've been skipping class?" Ben asked.

"Oh don't sound so holier than thou," she flapped her hands at him, "haven't you ever decided you have something better to do than listen to some old coot rambling on about how the dawning age of the seventies is going to affect the housing market? Oh no, you wouldn't, seeing as you were smart enough not to take the class."

"Well, he said he wanted to see you. God only knows how he knew I knew you," Craig replied.

"Great," Evelyn muttered, "anyway," she changed the subject, "You and I…" she pointed at Ben, "are going to the infirmary."

He protested weakly, but she insisted and half an hour later, he was being prodded and poked by a disapproving nurse who seemed to find fault with everything, "You young boys," she declared, "I don't know why you get into these stupid fights."

Ben wanted to point out that he hadn't exactly volunteered, but he found he didn't have the energy.

"You really should go to a hospital," she told him, "but I don't think anything's broken. You'll just need to take it easy for a few days. You'll be sore though, mark my words."

"What did she say?" Evelyn asked, when he re-emerged.

"That I need a drink," he told her. They made their way to the bar, Evelyn slowing her pace so as he could keep up. When they got there, the place was crowded and one of the first people Ben clapped eyes on was Phillips.

"We can go somewhere else," Evelyn told him, but he refused. He wasn't about to let some jerk like Nick Phillips make him afraid to venture onto the campus. They took a table at the far corner and Evelyn went to the bar.

Ben sat, his back to the wall, trying hard not to look at Phillips, but finding it hard to look impassive under the other man's gaze. Eventually, Phillips sauntered over and leant against one of the chairs.

"Don't look so good, Stone. In a bit of pain?" Ben didn't say anything, "Looks like someone roughed you up a bit. Who could that be I wonder?"

"Back off," Evelyn said, reappearing with two beers. She pushed past Phillips and sat down in the other vacant seat.

He looked at her in amusement, "I'm sorry Sanderson. I didn't realise you and Stone were so…close." Evelyn didn't say anything. "When did this happen?" Still neither of them spoke. "What's she like, Ben? I bet she's a real tiger in the bedroom…"

Ben was on his feet before he could stop himself, but pain shot through him and he had to sit back down again. He needn't have worried however, as Evelyn squared up to Phillips.

"Why don't you run off and play with yourself," she retorted.

There was a low murmur from the tables nearby.

Phillips came right up close to her, "What did you say?"

"I said, go play with yourself," she repeated, "let's face it, it's the only action you're likely to get."

Phillips looked as if he was about to hit Evelyn, but one of his mates pulled him back, "Let it go, man. She's not worth it."

Phillips allowed himself to be propelled away, "Don't mess with me, Sanderson, I'm warning you!"

"Yeah, yeah," Evelyn muttered under her breath. She looked at Ben, who was sitting in silence, looking at her with new found respect, "I have brothers," she replied simply.

SSSS

May 1973

Four months later

The end of year one was nigh and there was a frisson of tension roaming the campus. The exams were looming and Ben spent every spare moment he could in the library revising. Sometimes Evelyn joined him, sometimes she studied alone in her room. While he enjoyed her company, he preferred it when she wasn't there. At least then, he could keep his mind on the task in front of him, instead of wondering what it would be like to kiss her. Her mood had changed slightly over the last few months too. Having finally thought he had broken through her shell of anger and spite to find the sincere person within, he was partly dismayed to see the return of her closed expression and sarcastic comments. Only partly, however, as most of the time he spent worrying about whether or not he was going to pass.

The Saturday night before the first criminal exam, Ben spent most of the early part of the evening in the library, going over some last minutes cases. He was determined to apply for the apprenticeship at the District Attorney's office in New York. He had enjoyed Whitworth's classes and knew that was where he saw his future.

When he left the library, his mind wandered to Evelyn and what she was doing. When he walked into Hunter House, he was thinking about seeing if she wanted to go for a drink, only to trip over someone's legs just inside the door. Catching himself, he looked down and saw, to his surprise, Evelyn slumped against the doorframe.

"Evelyn?"

She looked up at him bleary-eyed, "Hi Ben."

He crouched down beside her and could immediately smell the alcohol. "Are you ok?" he ventured carefully.

"I'm going to fail," she sobbed, bursting into tears.

"What?"

"I'm going to fail," she repeated, "Whitworth…" she flung some papers at him and he saw it was her predicted grades. Under everything but product liability there were the words 'predicted fail."

"You're not going to fail," Ben comforted her, after he'd scanned the page. "You'll pick it up in the exams."

"Three predicted fails!" she declared, "I'm flunking everything!" she put her head in her hands.

"Evelyn, it's just a prediction," he told her, "Come on," he helped her up and she staggered against him, "let's get you back." Putting his arm around her waist, he guided her up the stairs towards her room. Every so often, she stumbled, almost taking him down with her, but he held onto her. "Give me your key," he said, when they reached the door.

Evelyn fumbled around with her jacket pocket, swinging between laughter and tears as she tried to find the elusive key. Eventually, Ben looked for himself and finally found it lodged halfway down a hole in the inside of her coat. Pulling it out, he jammed it in the door and pushed it open.

Once inside, Evelyn fell forward onto the bed and lay on her stomach, laughing. Ben put her key down on her desk and turned to the door, "Get some rest."

"No, no!" she said, turning over onto her back, "Stay. I need someone to talk to."

"All right," he replied, "but only for ten minutes, otherwise you won't be able to get up in the morning and you really will fail."

"Ok, Dad," she said, and then promptly burst into tears again.

Ben sighed as he went and stood at the window, "There's more to this than just your grades, isn't there?"

"Like what?" she asked, wiping her eyes furiously.

"Danny?" She shook her head, "Then what?"

Evelyn sniffed and ran a hand through her hair, "If I'm not careful, I'll end up just like them."

"Like who?"

"My parents. Drunks."

"Ah." Ben knew all too well what that was like, "they drink a lot?"

"They're alcoholics, Ben. Both of them." She looked up at him, her face red and blotchy, "You said your old man was one too."

He nodded, "Used to drink every lunchtime and at night too."

"He ever beat your mom?"

"No, he was a pathetic drunk, not an angry one." He paused, "Yours?"

She nodded, "But they're both as bad as each other. He hits her, she hits him…just one big happy family. You know, my father hasn't worked in years. I've lost count of the number of times we've almost been evicted."

Ben came and crouched down in front of her, "You don't have to be a part of that life if you don't want to. You're here, at Harvard. You're going to become a lawyer…"

"Spoken like a true little rich boy," she spat.

"Rich boy?" he echoed, straightening up again and fixing her with a look of amazement, "I never claimed to be that, Evelyn, not once. We're not rich, we never have been. My father died when he was thirty-eight. Not a whole lot of time to make money. But if you want to think that, that's up to you." He headed for the door.

"Ben, I'm sorry!" she called, "please, please don't go." Ben stopped at the door and turned back around. "I'm sorry. Everything…everything's just such a mess right now…" she put her head in her hands again.

"Evelyn…" his tone was gentler, "maybe you should talk to one of the counsellors."

"You think I'm crazy?" her voice was muffled.

"No, but what with everything that's been going on, it's no wonder you're a little depressed."

"I'm not depressed!"

"Down then," he reasoned, "and you know that drinking yourself into a state won't help."

Evelyn pulled her hands away from her face and looked at him, tears slowly trickling down her cheeks, "How did you get to be so wise?" she asked him quietly.

Ben laughed, "I'm not any wiser than you."

"Make love to me."

He wasn't sure he had heard right, and he frowned, his brow creasing, "What?"

"Make love to me," she said it again, her voice shaking slightly.

"Evelyn…" he shook his head.

"You don't want to?" there was a note of accusation in her tone.

"Oh, Evelyn…" Ben sighed, "I want to, I want to more than anything…"

"But?"

"But, it wouldn't be fair on you. You're emotional, you're upset, you're drunk…I can't take advantage of you like that."

"Take advantage?" she said, tears spilling down her cheeks again, "You think I'm some poor little weak kid who can't make a decision for herself? Who can't decide when she wants somebody and when she doesn't?"

"You're in a place right now where you feel lost and…"

"Don't psychoanalyse me!" she shouted at him, "I don't want to know what you think about my mental state. I just want you to take me and hold me and…"

"I'm not going to do it, Evelyn," he told her, "despite the fact that every fibre in my being is telling me to come over there and make love to you, I'm not going to do it." He opened the door, "I'm sorry." He closed it behind him just in time to avoid a heavy book which slammed against the wood.

"I hate you, Stone!" he heard Evelyn scream after him.

Ben closed his own door and threw himself down on his bed, letting out a long shuddering sigh as he did so. He had been so close. Just a little push in the other direction and he could have been with her right now, moving inside her, experiencing the pleasure he was sure would be forthcoming. But it would have been wrong, wouldn't have been fair. When they made love, he wanted it to be right for both of them, not as an escape for Evelyn from her unhappiness.

"When, not if," his conscience said loudly, "You said when, not if."

"When," he said to no-one in particular, "not if."