AN: Hello everyone!

Wow. Five months without updating. I'm pretty sure that's the longest I've gone since I started posting on this website, and I apologize profusely. This past semester was crazy stressful and my time was severely limited (hence the lack of updates), but I'm hoping to write more this summer;)

Anyway, this Deleted Scene (once again) is set between Vampire Academy and Frostbite. I don't know how many of you have read the 10th Anniversary Edition short stories (hopefully all of you cuz they are fantastic!), but I also wanted to mention that this scene takes place after Hello, My Name Is Rose Hathaway. You'll see a brief reference to that short story in here as well.

P.S. Before we get started, I just really wanted to thank everyone for their kind words so far. It truly makes my day when I see that someone liked something I wrote, and I couldn't be more thankful and appreciative to the people who take the time to comment and give me that feeling. You are all rock stars and I love yah!

Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Academy or it's characters. Everything belongs to Richelle Mead.

Try Not To Kill Each Other

Rose POV

One

Number of alarm clocks I broke today.

Two

Number of times I wanted to strangle Christian at breakfast.

Three

Number of pancakes I ate.

Four

Number of times Lissa reminded me not to be late to 1st period… again.

Four

Number of times I'd been late so far this week.

Five

Number of times I was going to be late if I didn't make it to the gym in the next 10 seconds.

I burst through the gym's doors with about three times the force needed to open them, making them hit the inner walls with a loud bang. All eyes turned to me and I felt a weird sense of deja vu. However, unlike last time, I was not being escorted by Dimitri and Alberta, and whatever I was interrupting, it certainly didn't look like advanced guardian combat techniques.

All of my classmates stood off to the sides of the room, and – after determining that I wasn't an evil, bloodthirsty creature of the night – their gazes returned to the circle of metal folding chairs set up in the middle of the room. Weird. A quick glance around told me that no instructors had arrived yet. Weirder.

A hand attached to a familiar red-head started waving me down, so I wove my way through the mass of confused novices to get to my friends.

"Hey, Rose," Mason said once I reached them. "What's going on here? Did Belikov mention anything about a special class today?"

"Unfortunately, my Russian jailer is more of a pain-in-the-neck than a source of information, and, double unfortunately, I was about to ask you the same thing."

"I know what we're doing."

Mason and I spun on Eddie, shocked. Eddie was an excellent fighter and had brains to match, but of the three of us, he was the least likely to have top secret information.

"Well, don't keep us in suspense, Castile," I prompted with a wave of my hand.

He smiled. "Come on, guys. We are obviously about get some WWE action. I mean look at the chairs." He gestured toward them. "Classic WWE."

"There's no way that that's what we're doing," laughed Mason. "That's fake fighting."

Eddie looked offended. "Fake or not, the moves they use can do some serious damage."

"Why would we learn to fight like idiot mini hulks, smashing chairs around and body slamming, when we know how to properly fight someone?"

"It's called street fighting, and it could be useful in casual fights."

"When are we going to casually fight a Strigoi?!..."

I tuned out their argument about weather or not we'd be squeezing into speedos and slathering ourselves in baby oil, and instead looked around for Emil or Dimitri. Heck, I'd take Stan at this point as long as he told us what was going on.

As if my thoughts summoned them, all three instructors appeared. Now I was even more confused. Emil usually taught this class. Sometimes Stan or Dimitri would stop in to help, watch, or even sub on occasion, but never both. I didn't know what this was, but I did know that I didn't like not knowing.

I caught Dimitri's gaze and gave him a questioning look… which he ignored. My questioning look was now a glare, and that was also ignored. Darn him.

With a loud clap of his hands, Emil got everyone's attention. "Alright students, today class is going to be conducted a little differently."

I tried to read all three of their faces, hoping one of them would betray something, but their guardian masks were firmly in place. None of their eyes even shifted to the circle of chairs – unlike every novice who looked at the chairs expectantly like maybe they would start explaining.

"As you know," Emil continued. "Our purpose here is to train you to one day become capable guardians." We had all heard this line, or something similar, literally hundreds of times over the years. Lines like this were usually followed by a dramatic speech of some kind, outlining duty, honor, and blah blah blah. So I wasn't surprised to see eye rolls and zoned out stares. "And while today's class will test your combat techniques, we are adding – or perhaps I should say amplifying – an element: competition."

Now everyone's interest was peaked.

Emil was right to revise his wording. Competition was a constant for us novices at St. Vlads; from the daily hand to hand combat to the scores on the trails we would all be taking at the end of the year. However, despite the unavoidable competitiveness, competition was not something the Academy focused on. The guardians were supposed to be a united front against a common enemy, so rivalry was generally not encouraged.

Of course, that doesn't mean we didn't milk every exercise or training session for all the competition it had. Even now Mason was rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"So today," Emil said, raising his voice over the excited chatter. "We will be engaging in an activity that requires you to be vigilant, exceptionally fast, combatantly skilled, and ruthless. Many a novice have been sent to the clinic because of this exercise, so be on your guard."

Ruthless? Clinic? Were we actually about to start hitting each other with chairs WWE style?

Emil clapped his hands to quiet the now nervous voices. "Today, students, you will be playing musical chairs."

A silent moment of disbelief was quickly followed by laughter – as if Guardian Naphtali had just told a joke – and I probably would've been laughing too if I hadn't been looking at Dimitri's face. He had on his we-are-serious-you-are-definitely-about-to-play-a-children's-game face. And yes, he totally has a face that says that.

Everyone else must've noticed the face too because the laughter stopped and someone called out, "It doesn't take any kind of skill to win a kid's game. Save that one for the primary campus, and give us something with real competition"

Emil just smiled. "Everyone please stand in front of a chair – except one, of course – and wait for the music to begin."

No one moved. I could feel the uneasiness. No one wanted to be the first to claim a chair, doing so would practically be admitting you wanted to play.

Dimitri narrowed his eyes at me. So now you want to acknowledge me? I said to him with my eyes.

Just go stand in front of a chair. Others will follow you, his said back.

And if I don't?

Rose.

I threw my hands up. Fine! Fine. But you owe me.

Our silent conversation finished, I slipped through the crowd of novices and planted myself in front of one of the folding chairs. Mason and Eddie were quick to do likewise, and eventually the rest followed, creating a ring around the chairs.

"Thank you," Emil said, clasping his hands behind his back and moving to stand in front of us. "Now, I'm assuming you all know the rules to this game, but if not, allow me to refresh your memory. When the music plays, you move. When the music stops, you sit down. If you were not able to obtain a chair, then you're out. A chair is then removed and a new round starts. To claim a chair, you must sit on it fully. If someone is fully sitting on a chair, it cannot be stolen. Those are the only rules. Everything else goes."

"Is there a certain fighting style you'd like us to utilize?" Eddie asked, probably still holding out for his WWE fantasy.

"You may fight in any way you see fit," Emil answered, walking towards Dimitri's CD player.

That, more than anything, made me pause. Three late instructors, weird. Make us play musical chairs, very weird. But allowing us to fight however we want? That was alternate reality kind of weird. Always. Always we've been given parameters. This new-found freedom was either going to be good, ending in skill growth and new respect for unique fighting styles, or it was going be very bad, ending in uncontrollable, intoxicating combat, chaos, and bloodshed. Knowing my class, my bet was on the latter.

As if reading my thoughts, Emil added, "Oh, and try not to kill each other." Then he pressed play.

I recognized the song (unfortunately) that began pouring through the speakers as one from Dimitri's collection: Dancing With Tears In My Eyes by Ultravox. Who names a band "Ultravox" anyway? I rolled my eyes as the choppy beat, ever-present synth, and whiny, male voice filled the gym. Dimitri smirked in a very un-Dimitri way, as if he'd been waiting all his life for the moment he could torture us all with his regrettable taste in music. His smirk grew when he saw my reaction. Yep, this was intentional torture. How low you have stooped, Comrade.

At first, no one moved. Many awkward and uncomfortable glaces were exchanged, and many more followed when we all finally started shuffling ourselves around the ring of chairs. I don't know what the guardians were thinking because this didn't feel like a competition. I mean, we were seniors, deadly, dhampir seniors,playing a game that probably had an appropriate age limit of 7 years old. It felt plain weird.

And the music sure as heck didn't help.

Emil pressed a button on the player and the music stopped. A few students sat down immediately, but mostly people jokingly took their time. Dean Barnes was the novice left without a chair, and it was obvious that he wasn't upset at all. In fact, he looked pleased with himself, like he'd just gotten out of a punishment that the rest of us now had to suffer through. Maybe he did.

The instructors' expressions betrayed nothing as Stan took away one of the chairs and Emil turned the music back on. Five more rounds came and went, going something like this: Music played. Music stopped. Most people calmly sat down, while a few students (mainly the ones lacking in brain cells) made it their own little game to be the one that didn't get a chair.

I was annoyed by their immaturity, but I couldn't say I wasn't a little attracted to the idea of "accidentally" getting out, too. So far, no fighting had occurred and I found myself bored out of my mind. I was tempted to tackle Mason or drop kick Eddie just to get some kind of action going. If not for the purpose of securing a chair, then at least to entertain myself.

After the sixth round was over, and Miles Deem joined the ranks of idiots along the wall, Emil stepped forward. The lack of Morten Harket's voice gave him everyone's attention. "I have done this exercise for years and students never change. High school students are too proud to believe they can learn something from a kid's game, as you called it, so every year I find that I have to offer motivation. Whoever wins the game of musical chairs is exempt from the mandatory training session this Saturday."

"Wait. What training session?" Dean asked.

"The one I just came up with," Emil answered without looking at him.

"What!? You can't just -"

"Now," Emil continued, ignoring the group of outraged novices on the sidelines. "I hope you start taking this more seriously because I assure you that Saturday will not be a picnic." With that, the music began to play.

The change was very noticeable. It was amazing how a few sentences could turn boredom into determination. The shuffle was now a power walk, and blank stares were now death stares. Of course, Emil's new incentive was no small thing. Training session? Sure. Story of our lives. On a Saturday? He might as well have been asking us to give up a limb.

This time, when the music stopped, everyone immediately glued themselves to a chair, and there was even a small fight on the opposite side of the circle. Poor Anna, the smallest person in the class (Yes, even smaller than me), was practically thrown across the room by Darius. She hadn't even gotten a chance to defend herself or counter attack before Darius took the seat.

I wanted to protest about the illegality of the move Darius had just done, but shut my mouth when I saw the reaction of the instructors, or should I say, lack of reaction. Stan helped Anna up, asking if she was alright, but no one questioned Darius' method. You may fight in any way you see fit.

Anna said she was fine and the music resumed.

The following rounds became a bloodbath (sort of). Not only were we allowed to fight in any style we'd learned here at St. Vlad's, but it was now confirmed that we could also fight dirty and get away with it. Personally, I wasn't a fan.

I watched as Ryan got Meredith out by grabbing her hair.

James got Liam out with a low blow to the family heirlooms.

Dylan got Cameron out with an elbow to the jaw.

And Eddie, kind, do-good Eddie, hit Bryce with a chair, though, I don't think he hit him that hard, and it was probably more to live his dream than anything else.

So far, I hadn't participated in any of the action, and – after watching these animals uncaged – I was kind of grateful for it. I didn't like dirty fighting (unless it was with a Strigoi), and only the Lord knows what I'd do to the sinner that even thought about pulling me by my hair.

When the music stopped once more, I looked back to find the chair behind me occupied.

"Sorry, Rose," Mason said guiltily.

My eyes scanned the seats until they landed on the only open chair on the other side of the circle. Unfortunately, Ryan, the other student without a chair, also noticed it. We briefly acknowledged each other, noting one another's distance from our goal. Neither of us were near the chair, and I was faster, but he was closer. Without a second glance he made a break for it. I cursed.

Using Mason and Eddie's shoulders to support myself (much to their surprise), I jumped into the center of the circle, deciding to take a more direct path. Ryan was nearly there. I ran.

Right when he reached the chair and began to sit down, I launched myself, not at him, but beside him, grabbing his head as I flew past. The momentum brought us both to the floor, him to his stomach, and me to my back right beside him.

I recovered first and scrambled to get up. I'd gotten to my hands and knees when I was dragged backwards by a hand on my ankle. I lashed out with my free leg, successfully kicking him in the stomach, but it must not have been very hard because he didn't release me. In fact, his grip tightened and I was pulled back farther.

He finally let go and tried to stand over me, but I flipped over, put my feet to his chest, and shoved. He flew backwards and I finally achieved a standing position. With him on his back and me standing next to the chair, I could have easily claimed my victory, but I didn't.

"Rose," Mason yelled. "sit down! What are you waiting for?"

I smiled. "I real fight."

That earned me a few oooooo's from my classmates, but I wasn't paying them any attention. I was focused on Ryan, who was also standing now, looking quite unsure I might add.

"I don't think you understand how musical chairs works," he said.

"I understand perfectly," I replied, pretending to examine my nails. "But when I beat you and sit my butt on that chair, I want satisfaction in doing it."

Immediately, I threw my fist toward him and he blocked me by bringing up an arm. Grabbing his defensive arm, I spun around, thrust my backside into his gut, and flipped him over my shoulder. He was quick to recover – seeing as my shoulder isn't that big of a height to be thrown from – and was equally as quick to sweep his leg at the back of my calf.

So, once again, we were both on the floor. Yay.

We weren't there for long, both of us choosing to stand rather than try and fight horizontally again. This time, he attacked first, landing a hard kick to my side. I grimaced, knowing that that would be a big, purple bruise tomorrow. Not wanting to be kicked like that again, I took a step toward Ryan, using his height against him – how Dimitri taught me. He tried to step back, but I continued to advance. Striking out with my fists and feet in practiced movements.

He fought me off decently, but it's hard to defend yourself while simultaneously walking backwards in a room full of equipment. In the end, it was my kick to his sternum that sent him stumbling, causing him to trip over a dumbbell and land on a mat.

I winked at him and walked back to the chairs, claiming my seat. A few people cheered, more in appreciation of a real fight than my victory, but there was only one person's reaction I cared about, and he was smiling.

More rounds came and went, and the ring of chairs got smaller. Even Eddie eventually got out, giving his chair to Rachel instead of fighting for it. I rolled my eyes. He was too chivalrous for his own good.

I was involved in a few more brawls, none quite as extensive as the fight with Ryan. Mainly just take-downs. A couple basic tackles. I had the satisfaction of putting Darius in an arm bar. I also dropped a kid using a pressure point on his neck. Dimitri raised his eyebrow at that one, knowing he didn't teach me that technique. Thanks google.

Numbers continued to drop and, unsurprisingly, the final two standing were Mason and I. He smirked at me as the music began to play one last time. (One last time for the rest of these lucky students, that is. I was still forced to listen to Dimitri's music every morning and afternoon.)

"Just you and me, Hathaway."

"It appears that way, Ashford," I said. "So, am I gonna get to fight you for the chair, or will you just sit in it as fast as dhampirly possible?"

He shrugged. "The way I see it, my chances of beating you in a fight are slim. I'd be better off if I just tried to beat you to the chair."

I frowned. "You've beat me in fights plenty of times."

"Less so everyday."

I playfully flipped my ponytail. "You flatter me. But seriously, you're underestimating yourself."

His smile was a conniving one if I ever saw one. "Fine. If you're so worried about me beating you, how about a deal?" I narrowed my eyes, but he continued. "I'll give you the chair if you agree to watch that movie we talked about at the St. Varvara's Day carnival...with me."

I almost stumbled, but thankfully my feet weren't in as much shock as my brain. Mason liked me. I knew that. And I remembered the very suggestion he was talking about, but what I don't remember is a time when he'd ever asked me out so directly. And in front of so many people.

In front of Dimitri.

We continued to circle the single chair, and his expectant eyes were boring into me. It was almost an intimate moment, made more so when the current song ended and Careless Whisper started to play. Well, this was awkward. I looked away, cursing Dimitri over and over in my head, not just for that ridiculous song, but also for pretty much killing any desire for romantic attentions that weren't his.

I couldn't just blatantly reject him in front of the class, so I tried brushing it off with a joke. "You know, Mase, I totally would, but I think you're gonna be busy this Saturday."

He actually did stumble, and at that moment the music stopped. I dropped myself into the chair before he could right himself, and crossed my legs with a flourish. The class applauded and I think I heard Eddie whooping, though, I'm fairly certain he was cheering for Mason and the ballsy move he just pulled.

"Well done, Rose," Emil said, ignoring the teen drama in front of him. "You are excused from tomorrow's training session. The rest of you, however, I expect to see here at the time this class usually begins." A chorus of groans and other sounds of protest rose up from all of my classmates. He clapped to silence them. "You are dismissed."

As I turned to leave I felt a hand on my arm. It was Mason. "I let you have the chair. Does this mean you'll see the movie with me?"

I snorted. "One, you didn't let me have anything. I won all on my own, thank you very much. Two, I didn't actually agree to your deal."

I said it smiling, teasingly, but his face visibly fell. "So, that's a no then." It wasn't a question.

Ugh! Why are boys so… ugh! I looked past Mason's shoulder and found Dimitri. He was looking at me. I wondered what he was thinking. Was he upset that Mason was being more upfront with his interest in me? Was he glad?

Did he even care?

As per usual, his face was unreadable. The only noticeable reaction I could see was a tick in his jaw. He was probably just worried that a relationship would interfere with my training and dedication as Lissa's future guardian.

That thought hardened me. This was why Dimitri and I couldn't be together.

I returned my eyes to Mason, and I told myself that there was no reason not to like him. He was kind, generous, loyal, supportive, funny, and, attractive – dare I say very attractive. We'd been friends forever and had always gotten along. Why couldn't we work as a couple?

I glanced briefly at Dimitri again.

"You didn't let me finish," I told Mason. "Three, if you ever want to check out a movie with me, just ask. I mean, we used to watch movies together all the time, right?"

A brilliant smile erupted onto his face before he dialed it down. "Right. So Saturday?"

"Sounds good." I began to walk past him. "Right after your mandatory training session."

The gym cleared out quickly after that – everyone trying to make it to second period on time. I, of course, cared a little less than they did.

"Did you notice my victory?" I asked Dimitri, the only person left in the room.

"Did you notice the time?" he retorted.

I shrugged. "I could say the same to you. All three of you instructors were late to class today. You missed my rare on-timedness."

"We were 'late' on purpose, and that is not a word."

"Oh, so you can be 'late on purpose', but when I am it's considered disrespectful?"

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Rose," he said in a sigh.

"Only kidding, Comrade."

Silence followed. Why was I still here? I know he saw what just happened with Mason. Did I just want to make sure Dimitri knew it wasn't like that? I shouldn't care, but… I did. I didn't even know what I expected him to do with that knowledge. I just wanted him to have it.

The silence continued for another moment, broken when he said, "You should get to class Rose. I'll inform Guardian Alto that I needed a moment of your time so he doesn't count you late."

I chuckled. "I feel like it doesn't matter at this point." He gave me a pointed look. "You're right. Sorry. I'll get going now, and, um, thanks."

He nodded, turned, and began walking away.

I did the same, but only a few paces from the exit I called back, "It's not a date." Then I pushed through the doors. I didn't look back to see his reaction, or to see if he was even still in the room.

AN: The idea for this chapter actually came to me at my aunt's birthday party. She had set up a game of musical chairs, and I was unwillingly dragged into it. It's not that I don't like the game, it's that I know my family (love them all to death) and so I know that they are savages when it comes to games or competition (myself included). As expected, there was pushing, shoving, grabbing, tackling blah blah blah, but in the end we all had fun. Anyway, as my life continued to flash before my eyes again and again, I thought that if the guardians or novices had a chance to play musical chairs, this is exactly what it would look like. Thus, this chapter was born.

Also, for those of you who don't know, my name is Rachel (Hi! Nice to meet you!). I am telling you this because the girl that Eddie gives up his chair for is also named Rachel. Yes, that was 100% a self-insert. Feel free to judge me, but Eddie ismy husband (see FF name).

As per usual, please let me know your thoughts on this. One of my greatest fears in writing this Deleted Scenes series is that I will take my fav characters OOC, so commentary and suggestions are always welcomed.

Thank you so so much for taking the time to read! I hope you have a miraculous day!