Author's Note: So here we are, less than three years later! And more story. Maybe this will become a habit. Anyway. Just a note, the last chapter was a little out of character for Brian...mainly because I was channeling Anthony Michael Hall from "Sixteen Candles" rather than Anthony Michael Hall from "The Breakfast Club." Hopefully this problem has been fixed. Also, Bender is a tricky one. Hopefully he's in character for this round too. Reviews are always lovely.

The bell ending lunch had rung three minutes before--a lifetime ago in high school terms. Most were already settling into the grafittied desks of their next class, leaving the cafeteria a veritable wasteland of brown paper sacks and banana peels. Claire remained in the midst of the mess, not having moved from where John Bender had dropped her. She sat, catching her breath and collecting her thoughts.

"You almost died," Allison said, slinking into a seat at the empty table. "I saw a lady at the mall do that once."

"Choke?" Claire asked, looking up.

"No," she shook her head. "Die. She bit into a pretzel and the next second her eyes are all bugging out, her skins turnin' purple, and she's just scratching at her neck, but no one notices, she just keeps scratching and making this noise, this wheezing noise, right before she just keels over and-"

"Thanks," Claire cut her off,"That's really comforting Allison." Allison just shrugged in return and the two sat in silence, interrupted only by the sound of the final bell peeling through the hallways.

"Shit!" Claire gathered up her books frantically before reaching for her bag, scattering papers in her haste. "Shit, shit, shit!" Stuffing them into her bag, she hurried toward the door. Allison's voice caught her before she made it.

"Bender's under the bleachers." Claire stopped but didn't turn. "Sixth block," Allison went on, rising from her chair,"He hates P.E." She crossed the cafeteria to where Claire had her hand on the door.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked.

"Thought you might want to thank him," Allison smirked, pushing open the double door and sauntering out. Claire tossed her red curls and started down the opposite hallway in a huff. Allison listened the click of Claire's boots across the tile and smiled to herself as they came to a sudden stop.

"Hey Allison?"

"North bleachers," Allison called back, laughing at the chorus of newly scurrying heel-clicks. Whistling a little tune to herself, Allison continued down the hallway, catching site of her reflection in a trophy case. The heavy, dark bangs were back and she wiggled her fingers at the glass in a 'nice to see you again' wave before taking a left into the school shrink's office.

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"Brian," Andy's voice hissed from the seat behind him. "Bri-" Brian waved him off and turned back to the vocabulary test in front of him. The words kept dancing around on the page and Brian was trying to make them sit still. The paper wads hitting him the back of the head weren't helping.

"Brian," Andy continued,"Where's Allison?" He waved at the empty seat in the back corner but Brian didn't turn.

Oligarchy, Brian thought, oligarchy, it means…

"Hey geek," Adam Sherwin, the varsity football captain seated to Brian's left, turned and grunted,"Somebody's talkin' to you, why don't you play nice and turn around."

Ah yes, Brian thought, how could I forget, oligarchy--rule by a few, by the elite and powerful…high school. Reluctantly he turned, only to get Andy's latest paper-wad product straight in the face.

"What do you want?" he said, keeping his voice low.

"Allison--where is she?" Andy asked again.

"How should I know--I didn't see her after lunch, ok?" With that, he turned back to his work. Importunate, importunate-- Another paper-wad lodged itself in his hair.

"You saw her at lunch?"

"Yes," Brian muttered, staring at the test. Importunate…

"Did she say anything about… Did she talk about me to you? What she'd say?"

Rolling his eyes, Brian swiveled in his chair. "Nothing, alright? I don't really talk about that stuff much--I mean, I'm not a girl, ok?" As soon as he said it, he regretted it, hearing Adam Sherwin snickering off to the side.

Beaten, Brian turned back to the test. Importunate, he thought, scribbling as another paper-wad hit him, -- demanding, unrelenting, persistent.

"Hey Brian," Andy called again.

"What do you want now Andy?" he hissed under his breath.

"What's the answer to number four?"

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This was a stupid idea and Claire knew it. She knew it, she knew it, she knew it! And she could feel it too, in the uneasy sway of her boots on the broken, old bleachers. Wobbling she tried to stay steady as she climbed, all the time staring down through the cracks for any sign of life below. She knew Allison had said under the bleachers, but she much preferred to stay up here. When she spotted him, if she spotted him, she might then consider going underneath but certainly not before then would she wander blindly beneath the hulking metal contraption amongst rats and old gum and god knows what else. No way.

She kept her eyes down, staring through each successive break between rows, climbing higher and higher and becoming more frustrated with herself by the second. "Boo," came a voice suddenly, from right beside her. As she looked up, several realizations came slamming together. One, she had just reached the top of the rickety contraption, much higher than she'd ever been before. Two, John Bender was standing right next to her, very, very close… And three, she'd just managed to catch her heel on the metal edge of the top step. That, coupled with the natural dizziness which struck her in Bender's presence, had upset her delicate balance and she could feel gravity begin to tug her backward. Before she could manage a scream, Bender had grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to him. Very, very close to him.

"Twice in one day, princess," he murmured, his warm breath mingling with her panicked gasps. She looked up at him but his face, as usual, was unreadable. Frustrated, she turned away.

"Well if you hadn't scared me to begin with--"

"And the tuna?"

"Well," she said, pulling her arm back from him and collapsing into a seat.

"That's once. And just once."

"Once is usually all it takes," Bender said, smoothing back his hair and sitting next to her.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're a freaking pain-in-the-ass princess if you're gonna make the god damn prince save you from two dragons."

"I'm not a pain-in-the-ass," Claire shot back, indignantly,"I came up here to thank you--and well, you, you John Bender, are the crappiest prince on the face of the planet!" She stood, stomping her feet and turned back toward the stairs, intending to make an exit. Instead, she gulped at the long stairway down. The long, long, stairway down.

"Now will you help me get off this stupid thing?" she threw one hand toward him but kept the other hiked on her hip. Slowly, he stood, and taking her hand in his, started down the steps, one at a time.