I'll hand it to everyone – 11 reviews for Ch4. I'm damn impressed! And thank you to everyone. I actually forgot I updated this story (seeing as I'd written this chapter a couple of hrs after I wrote Ch3) and then BAM. There are all these reviews and I was tripping. Haha... Thanks for giving me a moment of cheeriness and an ego boost on a dog day at the Stone.

As for this story: Talking to my girl A helped me to think about where this story will go. It isn't a double stuffed Oreo yet, but HEY! I always have time to cook up some frosting. A part of me is enjoying how "clean" I've written this while I'm dying inside to make stupid refs to birds and fruit for metaphors. Screw that! I told you I wouldn't and I won't. I'll tell you all now that it's very straight-forward right now for a reason. Honesty comes with age, ya know.

This chapter, btw, is trying to showcase an angle. We're getting into the current psyches of our protagonists slowly but surely. And don't you love when the "Big Moment" happens in the beginning and it all works for the resolution? Oh yes... Demented foreshadowing...

I'll shut up now because I could write a damn epic about what I feel about this story, etc.

Enjoy...

PS: I told myself that I'd name this chapter after the first song that popped up on my launchCAST and I kind of freaked for 3 seconds. (Then Jared called me and called me "girl" and that amused me greatly. Trust me, though – the whole "girl", "boy" calling thing is so southern.) The title is from Lyfe Jennings. Shut up – Hip Hop is IT.

Chapter 5 / 26 Years, 17 Days

"Tommy... Tommy!" Jude had been calling his name for what felt like forever. She finally nudged Tommy in his back roughly, squinting to her over-brightened room. She tried wiggling her fingers only to realize that her hand had gone immobile from numbness. She looked at him contemptuously. "Tommy, for God's sake, get the hell off of my arm!"

"Mmm... Arm... Yeah... Sure..." He grumbled loudly, still asleep as he rolled over, draping his arm across her chest. His hand automatically went under her shirt, stroking small concentric circles along the base of her ribs. He moaned softly into her shoulder and muffled some strange confirmation. "Arm..."

Pinned at the elbow and annoyed with his misunderstanding of her request, she did the only thing she knew would wake him up: she smacked him. He jolted immediately, half-jumping up and half-falling off the bed. She shook out her arm, rubbing the huge red imprint his cheek left.

"What? Huh? What time is it? Why did you hit me?" He sat back on his heels, confused and scratching at his head.

Jude remained silent but swung her legs over the side of the bed, bending backwards in a huge stretch and cracking her back at the same time. She tsked loudly and walked over to his side of the bed, reaching for and rubbing along the prickly heat of his face.

"You were on my arm and it was dead. You also managed to cop a free feel too." She ran her palm through his hair, trying fruitlessly to smooth out the wild kinks the jutted out from every possible direction. She playfully grabbed a chunk and pulled him to look at her. "What did I tell you about sleeping on my arm, boy? And it's noon."

She let go, chuckling, and walked towards the bathroom. "I'm taking a shower. Go ahead and order room service. Black coffee for me; order whatever you want." She looked over her shoulder, grinning. "It's all on D, anyway."

Jude retreated into the bathroom, Tommy getting up and walking to the phone while kneading his jaw. He grumbled loudly against Jude's belting from the shower, still tired and now in a fading pain.

"Noon? Morning to you, too..."

The cart sat abandoned at the foot of the bed, deep burgundy napkins lying precariously atop the simple white china and sterling flatware. Half of a croissant peeked out from beneath the woven sheath, splashes of espresso soaking into the pastry. Two demitasse cups sat closely next to each other, drained and waiting for their next filling. White sugar dusted over the center of the tray and gave the entire thing a glistening.

Jude and Tommy chattered casually as they left the depleted food and started to pack up her strewn bits and pieces from around the room. Every now and then, laughter would fill the room after a bad joke was thrown out. Tommy sighed good-naturedly yet it was leaded with flip-flopping thoughts. Jude caught his sigh, eyes narrowed to the vibes surrounding it.

"What's up?" She stopped her hunting and gathering to study his unusually heavy facial expression.

"Just thinking." He reached for a heather grey camisole under the edge of the bed and threw it into the classic cocoa and gold Vuitton suit case in front of him. "Why weren't we ever something... more?"

Jude returned to her easily laborious task of rounding up her lost belongings and nearly dismissed the question.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Jude. Why didn't we ever take that next step?"

"Oh, that..." She stopped in her mock realization, caressing the wrinkles in her birthday dress. She looked over to him, calm and straight-faced. "Because we settled for less."

Tommy looked at her skeptically and couldn't fully understand her brief explanation. She shrugged indistinctly and dropped the dress back to the floor.

"Listen, Tommy. You and me? We rushed into things. We weren't even tight friends again before we started screwing each other six ways from Sunday. It was crazy from the beginning, but it worked for us. Chill, screw, hangout, sleep, wake up going at it."

"But we got past that..."

"Yes, but it was still simple. We could be completely cool and open while not having to be bothered with all of the stupid relationship crap. Hell! Our 'marriage' was a joke. We did it to piss off Darius and to stir up the media."

Her words catapulted him into an agitated stupor. He couldn't help but wonder if she thought it was all he was after and, if so, he realized that maybe she didn't know him as well as he'd preached once before. He met her gaze and gave way to bluntness.

"Were you ok with that because it was what you wanted or because you thought it was what I wanted?"

"It was a little bit of both. It doesn't matter, though. What's done is done."

"It does matter!" He let go of a fervent hiss, allowing him to get back into the somber atmosphere that blended with the midday sunlight. "During all of this, I wanted something more but it seemed so pointless after a while. Even those two and a half weeks that we were 'Mr. and Mrs. Quincy' I kept thinking it was real. I wanted it to be real."

Jude took the time to nod and kneel before him, taking hold of the tank he was twisting into a tight rope.

"Maybe," she folded the garment and placed it gently to the side. "Maybe in the beginning, it wasn't what I wanted but it's what I want now."

If at all possible, his shoulders sagged lower, unable to believe this was definite defeat.

"It was easy, Tommy, and easy was my ultimate goal after so long. You got me and I got you. Baby..." She let her fingers trail down his chest before rising to her feet once again. "We got each other. Why does it have to be complicated now?" She turned her back to him, examining a small perfume bottle on the edge of the dresser.

He let her have her faceless moment but only wanted to match words with visual emotion.

"Maybe I want it complicated..." The breath hit his lips with burning disdain.

"Who knows, though, right?" She fidgeted with the little things that kept her focus off of him. "Who knows...?"

No matter how frustrated or angry he was at the outcome of their "relationship" her rhetorical musing gave him some sort of criminal hope. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity at the reversal. When did he begin demanding things from distant admirers? When did he morph into the mooning crooner squawking for the production's true meaning to the listener? It was comical, after all. She seemed to have mastered the skill and he knew he was the teacher of such mastery.