NB: I have changed the rating of this story from T to M due to the content of this chapter. Sorry if this puts anyone off reading it. My reclassification may be overly cautious, but better safe than sorry.

Chapter Six:
Happy Ending

It took a few moments before Justin opened the door. Becca had stared at it for a couple of minutes before knocking and the extra wait made her fidget. Her nerves were only exaggerated by the annoyed look he gave her as a greeting.

"Hi, Justin.." she said, starting off softly. He was silent for a moment, then he asked what she wanted, voice still annoyed, "I wanted to... see you again."

"What for?"

"I think, there is still some stuff to say."

"I've said everything I want to," he snapped.

"Well...some stuff I want to say then.." she murmured, voice near a whisper now. She'd not expected him to be so angry.

"I think we covered everything yesterday."

"Please Justin, I just want to talk..." the depth of his annoyance surprised her, it wasn't as if he'd not been into the kiss at the time, "Are you really still angry about yesterday?"

He leant against the frame of the door and stared at her. She was wearing a long coat, had her hair pinned back and was fiddling with the clasp of her bag nervously. He didn't know how she'd found him, but it didn't really surprise him to see her there. Ella was out, letting her in would be harmless. Getting her to leave again would be tricky. The truth would have to come out. He should just turn her away, but he was curious.

"Yes. I am."

"Well, can we talk about it..?" she offered, moving closer to him. The room behind him was dark, no lights were on and the curtains were drawn. She wondered what he was doing when she'd arrived. Sleeping probably.

He gave her one last, long look, then moved aside and allowed her in. She brushed past him as she entered, trailing a hand over his chest. He raised his eyebrows at her, but she was already inside the flat, making herself comfortable, and didn't notice his reaction.

"Mrs Dean!"

Becca took a sharp breath and closed the door to the stock room quickly. She tried to find the right key on the ring to lock it but her hands were shaking and they all squirmed around in her palms. In vain she tried the wrong one, scraping at the metal of the keyhole, and then gave up and turned quickly down the corridor. Out of the corner of her eye she had seen Justin fighting his way towards her. She was surrounded by students making their way to second lesson and found it hard to hurry away.

"Mrs Dean!" Justin called again, this time closer. She manoeuvred her way around two boys sharing a magazine and a group of girls who were laughing loudly. She clutched the pile of paper she'd just collected to her chest and squeezed past a line of children intent on walking shoulder-to-shoulder. Justin called her again, louder, and a group of year tens sent a surprised look her way as she carried on walking. They were attracting too much attention.

"Becca!"

She ground to a halt, coldness washing over her. It took her a few moments to realise that everyone wasn't staring at her, wasn't working it all out. Then Justin was at her elbow.

"Didn't you hear me calling?" he asked, breathless and with a grin on his face, he touched her arm slightly and she flinched back.

"What do you want Justin?" she asked loudly, watching the other pupils filing past them.

"I..." Justin looked around, the good humour gone from his face and replaced by concern, he lowered his voice to a whisper and moved a little closer to her, causing her to suck in another calming breath, "I wanted to see you, talk to you.."

"In the corridor? In front of everyone?" she snapped, whispering in turn and then adding in a louder voice, "Oh yes, that homework is in on Friday."

"I didn't say anything bad," Justin continued in a whisper, a bemused expression on his face. The last classroom door in the corridor closed and finally she looked at him. He looked good. Sensing he had her attention finally he smiled and reached out to touch her, she stepped away.

"You called me Becca," she accused, annoyed, "in front of everyone."

"No-one noticed," he protested.

"You'd better get to your lesson, this just looks even more suspicious." Becca started walking again to her classroom but was stalled when he called after her,

"Becca.." in an urgent half-whisper. She turned slightly and glared at him. He stared at her for a second, narrowed his eyes then corrected himself and called louder, "Mrs Dean." She walked off around the corner and thought she'd gotten rid of him before a shout echoed around the hallway, "Mrs Dean!" and she heard a noise that sounded like a school-bag being thrown against a wall. She hurried away.

"What was it you wanted to say?" he asked, nonchalant to the point of rudeness. He stood by the dresser and poured them both a drink, even though she'd not asked for one. She was leaning up against the wall, looking around his apartment, apparently now unwilling to talk. He offered her a glass but she just looked at it. He shrugged and downed the contents of his own. He'd reached for the bottle and begun to pour a second glass before she spoke,

"I brought some wine you know," he glanced up at her and she pulled a bottle out of her bag, "Seems silly now though," she placed it down on the dresser and turned so that only her right shoulder was leaning against the wall, eyes fixed on his large collection of spirits.

"We're well stocked," he admitted with continuing disinterest.

"We?" she asked, cocking her head to one side.

"Hope you haven't got a romantic picnic in there as well," he said, ignoring her question and nodding to the bag as his hand reached for the wine bottle.

"No," she said shortly, then dropped the bag to the ground carelessly, "I'm getting the feeling that wouldn't have gone down well."

"What are you doing here Becca?" he asked, glancing up sharply and catching her eyes with his own.

"Taking my one last chance," she said, smiling sadly, "how am I doing?"

"Awfully," he answered, taking a sip of the wine.

"Thought so," she said, nodding. Slowly she unbuttoned the front of her coat, peeled it back from her shoulders and dropped it to the floor, "I thought I'd be more nervous though, so that's a plus," under the coat she was wearing a tight black dress, cut at a slant above her knees and dipping low at the back. He looked at her, sucking in the comment that had just come to his lips, his eyes lingered over the curve of her hips. Finally he asked,

"What are you doing Becca?"

"I had this whole plan worked out... this, seduction plan... but when I got here, with you... it didn't seem necessary."

"I think you should leave," he said. Neither of them moved.

"Do you?"

"Things are different now Becca," he tried to explain, voice finally loosing it's hardened quality, "I'm different. It's not like you can just--"

"I get it, it won't change anything," she parroted at him, rolling her eyes and smiling before becoming serious again, "Can't I at least try..?" she straightened and took a couple of steps towards him.

"It won't work." he protested, frozen to the spot.

"Can't I try?" she repeated softly, now inches away from him. He opened his mouth to protest weakly again, but she leant forward and placed her lips on his. They kissed, once quickly, and then again, slowly. He reached out and pulled her tightly against him. One handed she pulled the clasp from her hair and let it fall down to her shoulders, he ran his fingers through it for a second before they broke apart. She smiled then started undoing the buttons of his shirt.

"Stop," he said, holding her hands away from his body and looking down at her seriously, "You want this?"

"Yes," she said with stubborn certainty on her face. He nodded and let her hands go, giving in instantly. They were both adults now, no point in holding her back if she wanted this again. To him, it mattered very little how they parted, but he was still male and there was still something there, he would not turn her down if she offered herself to him. His conscience was clean.

He slid a hand up the outside of her leg and under her dress until it rested on her backside. Then he pushed in close to her until she sighed. Her eyes fixed on his in an disconcertingly open way, he felt as if he could not shake off her gaze, and he changed his strategy. Hands on her waist he half pushed, half carried her backwards until her back hit a wall. She let out a soft grunt and, broken from his spell, reached up to pull his lips down to hers. He pressed his lips against hers hard, but that only seemed to add to her enjoyment. Slowly he pushed a hand up her inner-thigh and beneath the dress. She shuddered against him and let out another little moan, after a few seconds he snatched his hand back again.

Once he'd found the zip at her back he undid it, then took hold of the loose edges of the dress. Slowly he peeled it away from her curves, but hardly took in the view as her hands clasped at his face and her lips maintained their attention to his, first offering series of small kisses, then longer more romantic ones that left him panting. The dress had now fallen to the floor, and she stepped out of it, kicking the garment to the side with one of her heels. Clumsily he undid her bra, then allowed her hands to guide his to her chest. She was still under his touch for a moment before grabbing at the lapels of his shirt and tugging until all the buttons had either come undone or torn off. Leaning forward she kissed hungrily from the nape of his neck, feeling his pulse with her tongue, down to his bellybutton. He pushed her back gently and waited until she's straightened, her attention focused on his eyes again he then pulled her up into his arms with a grunt, her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist. They moved to the bed.

"...and that's why, despite their passion, they can never be together."

"Good Laura," praised Becca with an encouraging smile. The girl at the front of the class returned the smile weakly then bent over her copy of the text to make some kind of note. Becca turned around to face the white board behind her, on which six bullet points were written. She looked at the last one for a moment, the class silent behind her, then asked, "Ok, last one. 'Is Edgar Linton a sympathetic figure? How does he compare to Heathcliff? Is Catherine really in love with him?'" she turned and nodded to the boy nearest the door, "Sam, what do you think?" the boy took a moment to panic then opened his mouth, but before he could speak he was interrupted,

"Why don't you ask me what I think?"

Becca pursed her lips and without looking at Justin answered, "Let's hear what Sam has to say first."

"But I had my hand up," protested Justin, "for all of the questions."

"Let's have someone who hasn't spoken yet--" Becca reasoned calmly, still not looking at Justin.

"I haven't spoken yet!"

"I mean on this text." Becca continued, voice straining to be composed.

"He answered a question last week about the... ghost thingie." Justin complained.

"Yeah, I did." agreed Sam, looking relieved.

"Shut up Justin," Nancy hissed from the back of the class. Becca sent a worried glance her way before finally shooting a glare at Justin, he replied with one of his own.

"I'd like him to answer this question Mr Burton, if that is all right with you."

"I don't mind.." Sam mumbled, fiddling with the notes on his desk as if he'd like nothing more than to take in some of Justin's wisdom. Now that she had acknowledged Justin, Becca sent him a 'what are you doing?' look, which he replied to with a shrug and a smirk.

"Fine." Becca leant against her desk and looked at Justin, "What do you think then?"

"Of course she doesn't love Edgar, he's a wuss."

Becca forced a smile as a couple of the girls in the classroom giggled, "She thinks he's kind, good looking, has nice manners... The passion is there with Heathcliff, but she marries Edgar she because can't see any future between them."

"But that all changes after she's married."

"Yes. It is certain that Cathy loves Heathcliff, but still they do not end up together. And their feelings cause much hurt to those around them, Edgar, Isabella, the children. And of course she dies, and he ends up bitter and twisted."

"That wasn't your question," Justin murmured quietly, watching her carefully.

"It is a discussion question Justin, we are discussing," she glanced around the room and added hopefully, "Anyone can join in."

"Couldn't Heathcliff and Cathy have ever been together? You know, like at the beginning?" asked Laura, "It just, doesn't seem like such a big deal to me, all that stuff she's moaning about."

"I think she does what she thinks is best for both of them. Remember he wasn't supposed to overhear that conversation, when she says it would be degrading to marry him, maybe if circumstances had been different then it would have worked, she would have changed her mind. But once she's married, it's too late. That brings us to one of our themes I think," Becca picked up a pen and rounded the desk towards the white board, "the Destructiveness of Love--"

"I've changed my mind, Catherine is the wuss," Justin said loudly, causing her to turn on her heal and stare at him, he matched her stare, "She's weak, she deserves to be dead, she can go to hell," Justin snapped, glaring at her. The classroom erupted into laughter, suddenly the fact that they were in a room with lots of people became apparent.

"Outside Justin please, you've disrupted enough of my lesson." Becca snapped, walking to the door and holding it open for him.

Justin looked at her, shocked for a moment, then with a scowl nosily packed up his bag and walked out of the classroom. The discussion still reverberating around the room allowed him to hiss, "What the hell was that about?" to her without being heard by anyone else. She shut the door on him without giving a reply.

She watched his profile as he poured them both a drink, silently content. The sheets were smooth and comfortable around her, but after a moment alone in the bed she squirmed and patted a hand against the mattress encouragingly. Somehow he managed to force out a smile with no humour in it and walked slowly back to her side, two brimming glasses with him, the contents spilling down the sides and onto his hands. She took the glass intended for her and placed it on the bedside table impatiently. She dragged his free hand to her lips and licked up a drop of wine working its way down his wrist. He looked at her for a moment, then broke into a more genuine smile.

"That's better," she grinned, pulling him a little further into the bed and causing more of his wine to spill, "I knew I'd win you over," the smile dissolved from his face once more and she sensed he was about to offer some dissenting voice, so as distractingly as possible she set about finding all of the places on his body that the wine had fallen on.

Ten minutes later she dragged a hand through her hair, attempting to straighten it, then lay her head down on his chest with a sigh. His arm seemed to hesitate before wrapping around her, but when it did she pressed in close to his body and smiled, "You ruined my holiday."

"Did I?" .

"Yep. I was going to see all of these places, these grand and beautiful things.. but ever since I saw you behind that bar, I couldn't concentrate on anything else. Didn't want to concentrate on anything else," she twisted in his grip and kissed his chest, "Don't worry though, I don't hold it against you... you're very distracting."

"Ah, you remember,"

"I remember everything," she said, trailing a hand over his stomach.

"So do I," he said, playfulness gone from his voice. They remained silent for a few moments, awkward, then he added, "That's all in the past now though,"

"Yes," she smiled brightly, hardly managing to take in the forgiveness before he pulled away from her to drink from his glass.

"We're all even now," he commented after swallowing, "No bad feelings,". She frowned a little, but was distracted from deciding what he meant when his blue eyes appeared in front of hers again, and he kissed her tenderly. She wrapped her arms around him as the kiss intensified, but after a few moments he pulled back and looked down at her, "Did you plan all of this?"

"I had lots of plans," she pulled his head down so that their lips were almost touching, his hot breath on her mouth, "This time... I planned everything,"

"So what happens now?" his eyes flicked from hers to her mouth and back again, "In your plan..?"

"Well," she grinned, "last time we missed a few steps... this time I think we can manage the whole thing," she pulled his head down the final centimetres and their lips met again.

"I saw Justin Burton waiting outside your classroom today," Mrs Webster said, sitting down next to Becca in the staff room and pulling out a lunch box from her bag, she took a second to plump up a couple of squashed sandwiches before continuing, "I assume you sent him out for being disruptive. Anything I should worry about?"

"What?" Becca jolted at the mention of Justin's name, then recovered to say, "No, no, not at all."

"Well, he has been in trouble in the past, so I thought I'd better ask," Mrs Webster took a bite of her sandwich then spoke through the mouthful, "I was worried he'd be more of a trouble maker when he got older, but this last year," she paused to swallow, "you seem to have been a positive effect on him."

"I only have him for a couple of classes a week," Becca mumbled, shuffling through a pile of marking and attempting to look busy.

"You do quick work, we'll all be sending you our problem students soon," Mrs Webster chuckled encouragingly. Becca leant over her work and soon enough Mrs Webster took the hint and moved around the room to talk to Mr Hatherton. When she felt the other woman move from her side, Becca sighed a quiet relieved sigh. She felt as if everyone wanted to speak to her about Justin, as if he was haunting her through the whole school. She'd called one of her year thirteens 'Justin' today, then corrected herself to 'Jake', which was even worse. She'd had to turn off her phone as it was now being bombarded with texts every ten minutes from 'Lucy' wanting to know why she wasn't talking to him. It would have to be today, she'd have to do it now. Another moment of this and she felt that she would go mad, felt that she'd shout out 'I'm sleeping with Justin Burton' to the whole school in assembly just to stop the nagging thought in her mind that someone might know.

Becca reached tentatively for her phone, switched it on and turned it to silent while her inbox filled. She cleared all of the messages then typed out, 'Tonight, your place - B' and waited for the confirming reply. Her eyes roamed over the collection of workbooks in front of her, some were blank save for a name, others were completely covered in black ink as a product of boredom. Most had doodles on, faces, animals, love hearts and acronyms. Justin's had a figure of a stickman kicking a football into a lopsided goal. She hoped that she was doing the right thing. For Jake she was, for Justin she was, although he'd not see it that way now, for herself she was, if she ignored her emotions for a while. She thought about all the ways she could do it, straight away, post-coital, make him want to dump her, lie to him, tell him the truth... She thought about the ways in which she wouldn't do it, in which they'd meet tonight and he'd make her feel wonderful again and she'd forget that they were ever meant to break up, because all that was nonsense really...

'Will be there - L'

She had to do it. She was resolved. There was no other way. No other way to know whether her life like this could work. To know whether her marriage could work. She was just scared. If it failed as well, she'd have nothing. She was running away right now. He would be fine. He would be better off. They both would really.

Becca stretched out on the sheets, relaxed and contented finally. Beside her Justin ran a lazy hand down her arm. She turned to say something to him but was stopped by the beeping of a phone. He climbed out of bed and picked his trousers up off the floor, rummaging around before pulling a mobile out of his pocket. She watched him as he read the message, eyes roaming over his body. Everything was as she remembered it. He didn't seem to notice the attention though, he was engrossed in the text message. He smiled and typed a message back, and curiosity getting the better of her she asked, "Who is it?"

"My fiance" he explained. At her silence he glanced up from the phone and the smile on his face faded into an expression of condescending patience, "What? Did you think there would be a happy ending between us?"

Gasping she scrambled out of the sheets and grabbed at the clothes on the floor. Hardly knowing how she managed it she pulled her dress on, then fumbled around for the smaller articles, her bra, bag, coat and shoes. Her hands were shaking. Tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks, crouching down to pick up the clothes she looked up at him through blurry eyes. He turned half-away from her and put the phone to his ear, after a few seconds he said "Hello sweetheart,"

She turned and ran from the room, the door closed fast behind her with a loud slam but she hardly heard it. She ran down the first flight of stairs with no shoes on but when she got to a landing she paused and pulled them onto her feet. Running again she grabbed at the wall, the heals twisting under her feet like they had minds of their own. Disorientated, she didn't know where she was until she burst through a door into the cool night air. The car-park was dark, it must have been at least 11pm. Only pausing for a second she took in the expensive looking cars that surrounded her and then took off running again. She made it ten metres before she fell over on the gravel. The sharp stones dug into her bare legs and made them bleed, she grabbed the things in her hand tight to her chest. The cry that she'd let out when she fell turned into a sob, the tears had stopped while she ran but now her face was soaking and cold. She wiped her right eye and a black smudge of mascara came off on her fingers. Her hands were shaking.

"Why wouldn't you talk to me?" he asked, tears clouding his eyes.

"I.." she put her bag down slowly on the sofa, "had a lot to think about."

"It's over then?"

"Justin--"

"Stop," in an instant his face was inches away from hers, "You're always thinking about this," he slid his arms around her but she resisted his hug, "why can't you just enjoy it? We have been so... happy." the last word was said mournfully, his eyes stared into hers, the tears now tracking down his cheeks. With an effort she pulled herself away.

"You were happy... I had to hold us together, I was anxious all the time, sick with worry. I have so much to lose. It isn't worth it--"

"You were happy." he insisted, voice incredulous, "Do you think I'd do anything if I thought it was upsetting you? When we were away you were happy--"

"For a bit, but it wasn't real Justin--"

"Don't make this out to be something it wasn't. Some sort of fantasy in my head. We love each other!"

"It isn't enough." now she moved closer to him, but her face and voice were calm when she repeated, "Justin, it isn't enough."

"You thought so before.. you tried to walk away so many times, I gave you every chance, but you came back every time.. It is enough Becca. It's all that matters.."

"Stop being so naive! This isn't a play, a book, a happy ending... My marriage, my family, my friends, my job, my home--"

"I've heard this list before. Usually right before you kiss me"

"Not this time."

"You'd give us up for a quiet life?"

"For a real life, yes."

"You think pretending every day is real? Pretending you're happy with them... with him..."

"It's better than this."

"Is this about your lesson today? I'm sorry, I don't know why I--"

"No, it's not," she reached out to touch him, but this time it was his turn to flinch away.

"I can't believe you're breaking up with me.." his voice broke and he pushed a hand over his forehead in distress, "After everything... everything we've been through... and it going so well now.."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just take it back.."

"Don't beg Justin--"

"Take it back and we can be together again.."

"You need to find someone else."

Justin stared at her, incredulous, then marched out of the door without looking back. Becca sunk to the floor and stared at her hands. They were steady, they were fine, but they looked so far away from her.