Hi, everyone. This 'story' is actually a series of three short pieces which centre around an alternate ending to FAKE: the entire thing was actually started by me asking myself, "But what if Ryo had, in the end, rejected Dee?". Therefore, the divergence happens during the scene at the bridge in Second Chance (I've copied out the last canon lines before it to situate you that much better), and from there the entire story is Alternate Universe. It's also done in different POV's, which are listed next to the piece title, and though the titles are taken from songs which inspired the pieces, these are not songfics. Finally, the pieces are in sequential order. (inhales sharply, exhales) Okay, I think that's it. I'd really appreciate it if you'd let me know what you think of this when you're done, and I apologize to all the Dee/Ryo fans who may be chasing me with pitchforks after reading this... My one-shot, Michelangelo Sky, might be more their speed. :P

Disclaimer (applicable to all chapters): I don't own FAKE. 'Just One Word' is the title of a song by a band called the Story, 'Absence of the Heart' and 'Make Up Your Mind' are the titles of songs by Deana Carter, and 'Too Little, Too Late' was taken from an Amanda Marshall song.

Make Up Your Mind-- Dee's POV

"...the other night. Are you sure that's what you really wanted? I... I mean, like, well...it was like, your first time and stuff, plus you had all those things on your mind, so I thought that, well, I thought that maybe it was one of those spontaneous, regrettable things and... I mean, regrettable for you, not for me, because it wasn't just a whim for me. I mean... I love you... I totally, seriously, completely love you and... God, I... I just don't want you to think that maybe I tried to take advantage of you in your moment of weakness and... sorry, man... just... just forget it." (Borrowed from FAKE, Volume 7- words property of Ms. Sanami Matoh)

He muttered something, and I turned my head just far enough to see him out of the corner of my eye. I didn't think I'd ever be able to look him in the face again, but I still had to know what his answer was. "Did you say something, Ryo?"

His voice was louder the second time, louder than it needed to be, and I realized that the reason I hadn't heard him the first time was because I hadn't wanted to. "I said 'maybe'."

"'Maybe' what?" I knew I was just buying time, even if I didn't understand why. I also knew that this would make everything more painful than it had to be; still, I couldn't just let go of the longing that I'd cursed for so long so easily. I couldn't leave any hope behind for it to catch on, or I'd never be rid of it.

At least, that's what I told myself then.

"Maybe it was a... spontaneous, regrettable thing." He turned back to the bridge, and I remembered how beautiful it had been a few moments ago, when I had been sharing it with him. Now, the sight was his alone, and I felt the presence of that wall as though it were made of stone rather than emotion.

"In what way?" I had never believed that I was too stubborn for my own good until that moment.

He paused. "Don't make me say it."

I growled and grabbed his arm before I even noticed my own movement: in another second, he was facing me. "In what way?" I repeated, almost as shocked as he seemed to be at my own coldness.

"I don't want to--"

"Tough," I hissed, and shook him once. "You don't get to just crush everything like that, and walk off without giving me a reason. Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"I don't love you, Dee. Not... not in the way you want me to." His voice was quiet, but no matter how hard I searched, there was no trace of uncertainty. I wondered how long he had known that he would never be able to return my feelings, and still let me make an ass of myself chasing him. "I'm sorry, but I--"

"Then why?" I was getting desperate: the shock was starting to wear off, and I didn't want to be near anyone when the rage kicked in. "Why come to me that night? Why tell me that you wanted me, that you wanted to--" I grit my teeth in a pathetic attempt at self-control. "Why leave me hanging for so long?"

"I wasn't sure exactly how I felt. I wasn't sure if I loved you or not. I didn't know what to do." I had heard enough coached testimony in my day to recognize the legacy of countless rehearsals in his words. "That night, I was so... I had just spoken with Leo. I didn't know what I was doing."

"Bullshit. You're telling me that, after all these months, you still couldn't make up your mind whether you loved me or not?" I tried to crush a sneer, but only softened it very slightly. "You weren't all that conflicted while I was sucking you off."

"It's not that easy." Righteous indignation leapt into his eyes, the same kind I knew was in mine, and I did sneer then, as cruelly as I could.

"Oh, what, now you're going to go on a victimhood trip? You're going to try to tell me I took advantage of you, that I was rushing you, that I was pushing too hard, that I--" I looked away from him, squeezed my eyes shut, and looked back. "I know what this is about."

"And what would that be, exactly?" I related his clipped tone to images of misplaced files and broken pencils, and would have laughed at the contrast if my sense of humour hadn't been totally shot by anger.

"It's about you being a goddamn coward. It's about you not ever wanting to let yourself feel anything." I leaned in closer to him. "We both know you felt something, that you feel something every time I kiss you. Maybe it's just lust, but I don't think so, because that's not who you are. You're--" I stopped, shook my head. "No. I'm not going to tell you. I'll let you figure it out for yourself, when everyone else in your life has gotten as sick as I am of being jerked around by poor, perfectly broken Ryo."

"And what would you know about anything beyond lust?" It wasn't just the words that hurt, although they stung like a bitch too. It was that Ryo still believed, even after all this time, that all I wanted was to get in his pants, for us to fuck around until I got bored and found someone new. All this time, all this effort I've put into getting to know him better, and he hasn't even bothered to learn the first thing about me.

Before I knew it, I was kissing him: he struggled slightly more than usual, and I shoved him into the guardrail hard enough to shock him into stillness for a few seconds. I tried to show him with every swipe of my tongue against his teeth, with every fevered brushing of my lips against his, just how far beyond lust I really was. On some level, I knew it wouldn't make any difference: after all, I had shown him the same thing in the same way at least fifty times already. The kiss was really more for me, so there'd be no doubt in my mind that I'd done everything I could to make him understand what that night, what he had meant to me before he had chosen to throw everything back in my face.

When it was over, and before he could recover enough to say or do anything, I threw his arm down and started to walk away. He called after me a few seconds later, and his voice held none of the certainty of his rehearsed rejection. "Dee. Dee, wait, I--"

"Save it," I said, and turned the nearest corner, listening for the sound of his footsteps behind me.

Even if I had waited all night, I don't think he would have followed me.