Author's Notes: Hey all! Been a while. I had a really hard time writing this one. Hopefully it reads okay, it's been such a struggle to write that I can hardly tell. There are a lot of fast scenes in this one, so hopefully it doesn't feel choppy.

Please enjoy!

Persuasion

Shauna was making her way out of the PAC lobby when she spotted Amy sitting on a bench, staring at a notebook in her lap. She hesitated. As always, there were things to be done. But something was drawing her to Amy, and she was tired enough that the thought of having a seat was appealing.

Soon, she was staring down at Amy, watching as she wrote a string of numbers. Ugh, Shauna thought, drawing back her upper lip. Math.

"Hey," she said, and Amy's head jerked back.

"Oh!" The exclamation slid right out of her, a sigh of breathless delight. Shauna smiled and leaned closer. She wondered if Amy realized how obvious she was about expressing her attraction, then wondered if the vocalist recognized that attraction. Shauna wasn't sure if it was sexual. It wasn't always.

Although it usually was.

Those thoughts broke apart when Amy's eyes narrowed. She edged away, the very picture of wariness, and Shauna felt irritation rising. Sometimes, Amy was friendly and cheerful, and was more than a little star-struck. Other days, the girl seemed reluctant to even speak to her, and Shauna couldn't make heads or tails of it.

"Hi, Shauna," she said at last. "How are you?"

Shauna made a shooing motion, and Amy scooted over and moved her backpack to the ground. She collapsed into the vacated space. "Alright. You?"

"Fine. I haven't seen you around so much, lately. I guess you're backstage a lot?"

Shauna hesitated. In truth, she was exhausted. The combination of fretting over Claire, trying to make money, and preparing for the frenzy of productions that filled the end of each semester left her drained. And that wasn't ideal, especially when she couldn't spare any cash for decent coffee.

"I've been... busy," she allowed at last. "Here, yeah, and also outside of here." She waved a hand about to indicate the PAC. Amy nodded, then examined her face with painful deliberateness.

"Everything okay, I hope?" she asked slowly. Shauna faltered for a moment. Typically, she was very glib, but she wasn't sure how much she wanted to tell Amy. Would it hurt to vent to someone who had no sway in her network? To the best of her knowledge, Amy had nothing to offer her, and so Shauna didn't have to humor her.

She couldn't choose, so she answered naturally. She removed the sunglasses from her head, then wove her fingers through her short, thick hair. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just busy."

Amy leaned closer, and Shauna remembered how dark the skin under her eyes had looked this morning. Would Amy notice something like that? It's not like they were that close.

"Anything I can do?" Amy asked. She spoke slowly, with hesitation, but she nodded at the end of the question, as if to confirm that she had asked it.

Shauna stared at her, then cracked a reluctant smile. Ah, what the hell. What's the worst that could happen? "Well. Since you're offering... Can I ask you a personal question?"

Amy's eyes widened a touch, and she inched back. "Uh? Okay?" she blurted, and Shauna's smile grew.

Already wishing you hadn't said anything, huh? Too late now, sweetheart.

Shauna nodded, crossed her arms, and fixed her with an assessing look. "Do you want to have kids? Do you think you'd be a good mom?"

Amy's slumping posture jerked into straight, fine form, as if a teacher had rapped her desk with a ruler. Shauna followed the path of Amy's dark eyes to her stomach, which was, of course, as flat and toned as ever. Shauna tsked and tossed her head. "No, no, no," she said, making a careless hand motion. "That is not what's going on here. I'm just curious."

Amy shifted and stared off into the heart of the lobby. "Uh… I don't... I haven't really thought of it? I mean, I'm only nineteen."

Shauna snorted. "Honey, if you're having periods, you can have a baby." Then she sighed and patted Amy's shoulder. "Right, right. Sorry. I forgot, you're not active."

Amy twitched, then stared at her for a long time. She had the anxious, frustrated look of someone who wanted to say something, but wasn't sure if it was wise to speak. Maybe she's just the type who doesn't like to talk about sex? She has been a little jumpy about it in the past. Poor Bambi. God, I hope the world doesn't eat her up the way I know it will.

"I don't want one right now," Amy said at last. "I haven't planned out if I would like one someday. I... I guess it might be nice? But... Well..." She tipped her head, then exhaled slowly. "I… I know I wouldn't try unless the environment was right."

That darkened skin beneath Shauna's eyes tightened, and she leaned closer without willing it. "What do you mean?" she asked, speaking with much more intensity than she would typically allow herself. Planning out how to create a safe, nurturing home for Claire was her obsession these days, and this was her first opportunity to discuss it with someone, even indirectly. She had no idea how to broach the subject with Michael and everyone else in her high school network, or the new one she was forming in college.

Amy hesitated, and she edged back as Shauna leaned in. "Well... A child needs certain things, and I can't offer them yet."

"You mean money?" Shauna demanded.

Amy blinked, then grinned, and Shauna's eyes narrowed. What's so funny about this? It's serious! She breathed in deeply, trying to remind herself that Amy didn't know about her situation.

"That is true. In the words of the late Michael Jackson, 'if you can't feed your baby, then don't have a baby.'"

Shauna frowned, biting back a scathing retort. She doesn't know… She doesn't know. Take it easy, girl.

Amy's smile faded, and her expression flowed into something Shauna hadn't seen before. She looked so serious, and the absence of her over-sized smile, anxious, wide eyes, or other overblown mien rendered her face foreign. "That's not really what I meant, though," she began, her tone subdued. "I mean... Even if it's not ideal, kids can do with less of some things. A smaller house, no pets, fewer toys, no exotic vacations, fewer clothes..." She paused, and her lower lip trembled for a moment. "Even being a little hungry is better than having less of some things."

For the first time, Shauna's entire attention focused on Amy, with an intensity that might have been frightening. "Like what?"

Amy's eyelids drifted shut, and she turned her shoulders inward, closing up her posture. "Like love. A child should never have less love."

"Love?!" Shauna blurted the word out, flavoring it with a scathing tone that had Amy flinching. "Sorry," she said quickly. "It's just- you sound like an after school special."

In truth, it was the implication of the words that dug at Shauna. Although Amy had no way of knowing it, it felt like she was taking a dig at her. She had grown up with very little- just the advantages of her good looks, and the craftiness and wariness that kept her safe. No one had loved her until she was a teenager, and the attention from boys was at least eighty percent hormonal.

I did date one boy who didn't see me as just a source of sexual relief, something in her whispered. She shook her head, forcing the thought back out.

"Sorry? Uh, that's just what I think." Amy, Shauna noticed, was pulling her limbs inward, physically blocking her core from easy access. It was a good body language cue to add to her acting repertoire, and Shauna took a moment to memorize it before moving on.

"I know," she said soothingly. "And you're sweet." Sensing danger, and feeling too frayed to continue, Shauna turned the subject to other, lighter matters.

Hours later, in the quiet and privacy of her dorm room, Shauna returned her attention to that snippet of conversation. It was then that she realized that she had no shortage of love for Claire. If Amy was to be trusted, then, even if things were lean from time to time, Shauna might be able to make things work with Claire. As inexperienced as Amy probably was with child care, that possibility afforded her a calm she hadn't felt in months. She breathed in deeply and sat, silent and still on her bed, for a long time.

When she felt centered, she started walking to the nearest library, intending to find a board scholarship online that would allow her to feed herself and Claire with free campus cafeteria food. On the way, Shauna realized that someone, somewhere might have had a shortage of love for Amy. Bright, sweet, sunny Amy…! The thought piqued her curiosity, but Shauna had things to attend to, and she was aware that they weren't close enough for her to probe deeper.

Another Day

Izzy glanced at his cell, frowned, and picked up his pace. His sectional had just ended, and he was on his way to a talk by a local doctorate in a different room in the CS building.

Dr. Livrey was scheduled to give a seminar on his most recent publication, and Izzy had been following his work for years. While he wasn't at the forefront of Izzy's list of admired programmers, he was still near the head of the pack, and he was looking forward to attending. Izzy knew what Dr. Livrey looked like, courtesy of a photo on his website, but such pictures were often laughably out of date. Besides, taking accurate stock of a man required much more than the sight of a photograph, and, while a forty-five minute talk was still inadequate for that purpose, it was a better starting point. And, as always, Izzy was curious, and eager to be able to attach a voice to the man's research. Typically, he wasn't interested in studying people and personalities, but there was an odd sort of kinship between a respected professional and a youth who, growing up, had followed his work.

After some dodging and shouldering through crowded, narrow back hallways, Izzy entered the computer science building's lobby, then slipped into one of the conference rooms. He took a seat and turned his attention to the platform that the stadium arrangement looked down on. There stood Dr. Livrey, squinting against the harsh overhead lighting, which was reflecting off a pate in the beginning stages of balding. The remaining hair was black, strung lightly with silver. The man sighed, then headed towards the far end of the stage. His legs were very long, and his gait was awkward and exaggerated. Watching him conjured up memories of the blue heron feature on one of Amy's wildlife documentaries.

After some fiddling with the panel on the wall, the lights lowered, and Dr. Livrey began to speak. He had a mild voice, and his address was far smoother than the average programmer's. The speech was simple and straight-forward, rendering it very easy to follow, despite the advanced concepts. Izzy couldn't help but feel a bit envious of that skill in discourse; his own students hardly seemed to understand his everyday vocabulary, let alone the technical talk he used.

The colloquium passed in a flash, and the lights turned back on. Dr. Livrey climbed down from the stage, his long legs easing the transition. He stood there, apparently open to sticking around for one-on-one discussions.

There was some small temptation to say hello, but that was a bit too socially demanding for Izzy's tastes. He stood to leave, but froze when he saw Hana approaching the front of the room. As always, her body movements were so fluid and quick that she almost seemed to glide across the floor.

What's she doing here? Someone nudged him aside in an attempt to exit their row of seats, and Izzy excused himself and moved to the aisle. His feet took him down Hana's path, as if proximity would answer his questions.

Hana was a CS student, yes, but not a particularly talented or devoted one. Izzy couldn't imagine why she would attend a seminar on a subject unrelated to her passion of ballet, and yet, here she was. She went right up to Dr. Livrey, and Izzy just barely heard him say, "How was I?"

Hana smiled, her expression fond and indulgent. "I bet you've given a thousand of these talks by now, but you still stutter sometimes."

The strangeness of the exchange had Izzy stepping closer, moving out of the crowd milling towards the door. He didn't realize that his pack anonymity was gone until Hana was waving at him.

"Look," she cried, taking hold of Dr. Livrey's arm, "it's Izzy! I thought he might come!"

She made a beckoning motion, and Izzy obeyed automatically, growing more confused and curious with each moment. Soon, he was standing in front of Dr. Livrey, and he cleared his throat and extended a hand.

"Ah, thank you for giving the seminar. It was very interesting." They shook hands, and the older man fixed him with a look that was genial, but oddly penetrating.

"Huh. You mean that, don't you," he said slowly. "Most of the kids who come to see me are just fulfilling course requirements, writing reports on talks, that sort of thing."

"I told you," Hana said, rolling her eyes, "he's a total nerd, just like you."

At this point, Izzy could no longer contain himself. "Do you mind if I ask how you know Dr. Livrey, Hana?" The question might have been rude, he wasn't entirely sure, but there was no way to get around asking it. Not if he didn't want his mind to pop from sheer curiosity.

Hana blinked, then narrowed her eyes and leaned towards him. "You're serious?" she asked, smirking. "Come on, Izzy." She tilted her head towards the professor. "Dr. Livrey." Then she splayed a hand over her chest, but Izzy wasn't seeing whatever was so obvious to her.

"Hana Livrey," she supplied at last, fluttering the hand up and down. And, with that remark, the word daughter slammed through Izzy's brain, ripping down walls in the process. Hana and Dr. Livrey looked nothing alike, moved nothing alike, spoke nothing alike, and Hana clearly wasn't blessed with her father's computer skills. He only hoped that his surprise wasn't offensively obvious, and that no reply was required of him. There was going to have to be a lot of rapid mental reconstruction before he was able to comment.

"You forgot my last name, didn't you. Izzy, you grade my papers all the time!"

"In his defense, your handwriting is practically illegible," Dr. Livrey said mildly.

Hana turned narrowed, unimpressed eyes towards her father, and he smiled placidly down at her, then returned his attention to Izzy.

"My daughter tells me that you've taught her a lot."

Izzy wasn't sure how to respond to that. The hours spent with Hana at computer screens, repeating basic programming essentials while she apparently thought of anything but programming, often made him want to slam his face into the table- or, on more than one occasion, hers. Then, he noticed the grin spreading across the man's face.

Izzy recognized it as an invitation for mischief. "Somewhat against her will, I'm afraid," he replied.

There was a sputtering sound from Hana, and a hastily swallowed cough from Dr. Livrey. "I see. Well, if you're at all interested, I'd be willing to pay you to tutor her privately in the future. From what she's said, it sounds like you go above and beyond your duties as a TA, and she's likely to need your help in future classes, as well."

"Dad!" Hana cried, her voice going shrill. "I'm standing right here!"

Dr. Livrey shrugged. "Strengths and weaknesses, Hana. If Izzy needed ballet lessons, you'd be the first person I'd suggested."

"No thank you," Izzy muttered. The thought of him standing at the barre was enough to have Hana giggling, and Izzy shuddering.

"I'll find you a nice leotard," Hana said, sighing with pleasure.

"In all seriousness," Dr. Livrey said, mercifully cutting in, "let me know if you'd like to take me up on tutoring. I assume you wouldn't mind, Hana?"

She sighed, then crossed thin, willowy arms. "No," she said at last. "No, I wouldn't mind. He's the best student teacher I've ever had."

Dr. Livrey nodded, as if he had fully expected her answer. He pulled a card from his pocket and handed it over to Izzy. "Here you are. I'm afraid I have to run now, but if you ever want to talk about programming, feel free to give me a call. It was nice to meet you."

Izzy said goodbye to the Livreys, then made his escape. He was too overwhelmed to realize that he entirely looked like a man fleeing danger.

Another Day

Matt was sitting in his dorm room alone, staring at his laptop's display. He needed his brother's advice, but he hated turning to TK for help. The concept that he was the older sibling, and was responsible for protecting and advising his brother, was deeply worked into his identity, and he hated to show any signs of being incapable in that role.

However, Matt had said himself that no one understood Amy like TK, and his need for that insight was becoming more desperate each day. Sighing, he texted his brother, asking him to get on Skype, then accepted the video chat invitation that shortly followed.

They spoke of inconsequential things for a while, sharing news and ribbing one another. Eventually, they ran through the obvious subjects, and there was a long pause. TK steepled his fingers and put the tips at his nose level, and Matt grit his teeth. His brother had that annoying superior look about him.

"You want something from me, brother dear," TK proclaimed, arching a faint, golden eyebrow. "Let's have it, then. I'm trying to write a poem."

Matt was tempted to inform his sibling that this wasn't the time for poetry, but he held back for the sake of his lyrics. While Matt was great at capturing the emotions he wanted to convey, TK had a talent for replacing key words with alternatives that were more potent, more telling. And his ability to echo the rhythm of a song with a rhythm inherent to its lyrics was not to be dismissed.

So, he wasn't about to say something that would tempt his brother to retract the service the next time he asked, no matter how much he wanted to reach through the screen and box the brat's ears.

Instead, Matt took a long, deep breath. "It's about Amy, TK."

"Oh?" The playful snottiness vanished from TK's tone, and he lowered his hands. Matt nodded towards the display, then explained Amy's bat situation. TK watched him with more calm and quiet than he normally displayed in the space of a month.

"I see," he said when Matt finished. TK locked glances with him, and, for a moment, Matt wished that he would revert to his usual playfulness. He hadn't watched TK's eyes morph from sky blue to sapphire in a long time. "What's my role in this, then?"

Matt pulled away from the screen, feeling a touch taken aback. TK's eccentric behavior made it easy to forget that he was damnably clever. He gave himself a mental shake, then focused on his brother's face. "I need you to be the middle ground."

TK put his elbows on his desk, folded his hands beneath his chin, and stared at him, a tacit demand for details. Matt scowled before continuing. "Tai is saying that she shouldn't go."

"Naturally," TK returned, inclining his head.

"And I'm... I've been pushing for her to go." He paused and swallowed, trying to clear out his throat. "Hard."

His brother's forehead lined with concern. "Mm. I bet she loves that."

Matt snorted. "She's... I think she's avoiding me." He knew all along that Amy wouldn't want to be pushed, that there would be some sort of fallout if he kept bringing the issue up, but something in him still wasn't prepared for the results. Suddenly, she wasn't asking about his latest songs, eager to supply his need for practice harmonies and guitar work. She wasn't bouncing at his door to join him on the walk to the PAC. She didn't show up for video game marathons, didn't stop by to offer commentary on his frequent style and hair tweaks, and made excuses when he asked her to join him at the cafeteria.

Matt wasn't about to admit it to TK, but Amy had even turned down his offer of treating her to ice cream with Sora. And that had been the kick in the stomach that forced this phone call in the first place.

TK watched him for a few seconds, his glance nearly as penetrating as Amy's sometimes was. "What's Mimi doing?" he asked at last.

"Staying out of it, if you can believe it. She's gotten really drawn into Sora's fashion show. Besides," he added, laughing without humor, "I don't think she can wrap her head around why someone would want to spend three months in the middle of nowhere, studying bats."

"Well, neither can I," TK said easily, lifting his shoulders, "but it takes all sorts. Izzy?"

Matt sighed and bent over his desk, rubbing his forehead with calloused fingertips. "He doesn't raise the issue on his own. When it comes up, his opinion seems to be that she should go, but he doesn't say much about it. You'd think he wasn't interested." Bitterness snuck into his tone. "I think he's too wrapped up in his own concerns to be bothered."

By now, TK's eyes were the grayish blue of a sea before a storm, and Matt couldn't help but wonder if his own could take on that ominous color. "I doubt that's the issue."

Matt fought to keep his expression neutral, but he could feel his muscles tightening. He loved his brother. He really did. But moments like this, where TK thought he knew more about a situation than a person living through it, really pissed him off. He didn't invite an explanation, but TK gave it anyway. "He knows it's none of his business."

Matt's responding snort was an odd mixture of derision, confusion, and surprise. He had to unclench his teeth to speak. "His girlfriend may or may not be spending three months away from him. I'd say that's his business."

"No," TK replied, and the bite to his tone had Matt inching back. "It's not. They're not married, Matt. They've only been dating a few months. And even if they were married, a wife should be allowed to make her own decisions, as long as the needs of any children are taken into consideration by both parents. I know you mean well, and I know Amy has... delicate areas that you're trying to be considerate of. And I also know why you've gone nuts about watching over her since… since your prom."

His voice broke during his last sentence, and Matt's hand twitched towards the screen. Telling TK what happened with Jerry had been one of the worst things about prom. Amy wanted him to keep it quiet, and finding the right balance between candor and reticence had been a difficult task, especially when he could sense TK bridging the gaps that he created in the narrative. Despite his flippancy and playfulness, TK was sensitive at his core, particularly when the few people he cared for were involved. The boy took the news hard.

"I do understand why you're pushing her out the door," TK said quietly. "It is true that she needs to be more independent. But… Forcing your opinion on her is just another way of denying her that independence. If she's going to get anything out of this, then she needs to decide for herself that she's up for the challenge, that it's something she wants."

Matt stared at his brother for a long time. He had no idea how to absorb the words, and he wasn't anywhere near being able to reply. The possibilities were floating, vague and barely defined, in his brain, but he couldn't give them full substance, let alone choose between them.

What do you know? You're still a boy! When the hell did you get so wise? Why are you growing up so fast?

He had no way of knowing what his expression looked like, but TK was watching him, silent and serious, giving him the time he needed to accept that he was wrong, and that his goofy little brother had kicked him right off his pedestal. Not to mention right in the balls.

Maybe TK sensed that he was having trouble being proven wrong, because he forced a smile and leaned towards the camera. "It's okay to encourage her, Matt. She loves you. She's going to look to you for opinions. But don't push. At the end of the day, if you try to make the decision for her, it means you don't trust her. And there's no such thing as love without trust, and Amy knows that."

Matt snorted and flicked his hair into place, a sad attempt to restore his pride and save face. "Yeah? Well, what do you think I should do, then, Miyagi-san?"

TK lowered his brow so much that his nose wrinkled. "Mi-what, now?"

"Huh?" Matt splayed his hands flat against the desk. "You're not serious. You know, the Japanese guy in The Karate Kid." TK shook his head, and Matt smacked his forehead. "Ahhh, right, right. I forgot. You don't get any references that aren't from books."

"I'm assuming it's 'insert old mentor.'"

Matt nodded, then watched TK shift around, until he was supporting his chin with his palm. "I think it's important that she go," he said slowly. "We're in agreement on that much."

He waited for more, but apparently TK was going to make him work for it. Matt scowled, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms. "Wonderful. And?"

"Annnnd," TK began. He frowned and screwed up his eyes. It looked like he was trying to check his nose for smudges, and Matt had to fight down a smile. "And, well. The trick isn't to pressure or force her into going. It's to make her think that going is the best option."

Great. Wonderful. "What do you think I've been trying to do?" he demanded.

"Is that what you've been up to?" TK asked cheerily. "Doing a bang-up job, there, brother dear."

"TK- for the love of God-"

His brother began to laugh, and his clear, boyish tones eased the edge from Matt's irritability. He waited, giving him much more leeway than he probably should have. "Let me give it a shot. I'll give her a call, okay?"

Thank God. "Sure. Great. Have a go, then. But, you know… I don't see how manipulating her into agreeing with us is any better than forcing our will on her."

TK snorted into cupped palms, then turned a bright, crooked smile towards his screen. "I never claimed to be fair."

Matt furrowed his brow. "Do you- Do you have friends, TK? There's no way you can have any friends. You're impossible." Talking to you is like taking a beating to the head.

TK waved a hand dismissively. "Of course I do. I'm delightful. You're the one who never talks outside of band practices and the friends you already have."

They stared at each other, with annoyance on Matt's end and amusement on TK's. "Time's a-wasting," his brother said at last. "I've got a mission over here, if you'll recall."

"Wait," Matt said, holding a hand up. His brother tipped his head in inquiry, a gesture that came directly from interacting with Amy. The resemblance was so uncanny that Matt stumbled over processing it. "Ah- I've already, uh, I think I've done… Done some damage. How should I…"

TK stared at him for a moment, sighed, then ran his fingers against his laptop's touchpad. "Give me a second… Yeah. Okay. It's still on her Amazon wish list." A moment later, Matt received an email from his brother. It contained a link to an Amazon product page for a hardbound copy of a book called Emma.

"This will do it?" Matt asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Usually, 'buy something' isn't the solution for Amy." It was also a lot cheaper than most peace offerings ran, but Matt wasn't about to complain about that.

"Typically not," TK agreed. "But she's been wanting this, and there's a message in you giving it to her right now."

"This is Austen," Matt pointed out. "She's read all of those a thousand times." He didn't have the stomach to inquire about the message. The last thing he needed was for TK to gleefully point out everything he'd done wrong. Again.

TK released a breath in an irritable huff. "And she'll read it a thousand more times, especially if you give it to her."

"Fine, fine. Whatever you say." Although his tone was sarcastic, Mat trusted his brother's call, and was already putting the book into his cart. "So, you'll talk to her?"

"If you'll ever let me go, yes."

"TK?"

"Hmm?"

"You're an insufferable little bastard."

TK laughed. "And to think, you practically raised me."

One last bright, far-too innocent smile, and the call was cut off.

Matt collapsed against the back of his chair, stared at the ceiling, and cursed, his tone frazzled and impotent.

Meanwhile

A knock on the door had Izzy looking away from his program. "Come in," he called, turning his desk chair to face the entry. He smiled when Amy slipped into the room.

"Hello." She was walking towards him, so he remained seated and accepted the faint kiss she pressed to his lips. His eyes followed her progress to his bed, where she sat, then turned back to his work.

"I apologize for how busy I've been lately." His fingers plugged away at the program as he spoke. "I neglected to anticipate that my students would want more attention as finals approach."

Amy didn't answer, and he glanced away from his laptop to investigate. He found her staring into her lap, her eyes unfocused. "I thought… I thought you only had to work so many hours per week as a TA. You know, your sections, and a certain number of office hours."

"That is true," Izzy agreed. His instincts were warning him to tread carefully, although he wasn't entirely aware why. "But I have difficulty turning down someone who wants to learn and comes to me for assistance."

When he looked over this time, he saw something aching in her expression, and he turned away from his desk. "Amy," he began, rolling himself towards her, "I am sorry. I- I'm expected to complete this work by midnight, so I'm tied up at the moment, but, if you'd like, tomorrow-"

"That's okay," she said, raising a hand to cut him off. "It's not… I just stopped by to tell you something."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I… I've been thinking about… You know, the bats."

"I see. You've made a decision?"

"Well… Not completely, but I've been thinking… I'm not sure, but I guess I've been sort of considering… going."

Izzy tried not to let his surprise show, lest it somehow discourage her. "Congratulations," he said, smiling. "I'm sure it will be a valuable experience. I'm looking forward to hearing about it." Personally, he had assumed that her distaste for being alone would outweigh her interest in taking part in the study, which would have been a waste. He reached over and patted her knee. "I'm sure you'll perform very well."

"Oh… Thanks." Amy's glance flitted towards his face, then moved back to her lap. Her fingers began to pick at her skirt, smoothing it out perfectly over her legs.

"Is something the matter?" Izzy asked. He slid his hands around hers, stilling their fretful motions.

"Umm… Well, I just… I'm a little worried, because… I would miss you."

Izzy was relieved that the issue wasn't more serious. "Don't worry," he said, squeezing her hands and smiling. "We have Skype. I promise that seeing your face and hearing your voice will be a daily priority."

There was a sucking sound, the result of air being forced inward through Amy's teeth. "That's not… It's not really the same, you know?"

Izzy furrowed his brow and ran his fingers over her skin. True, he would miss being able to touch her like this, but that wasn't what really mattered between them. "It's not that different, Amy," he said gently, "especially since we're not particularly physical. Please, don't let any worries for me keep you from taking advantage of this opportunity. I'll be just as busy over the summer as I am now, regardless. I'd feel easier knowing that you're having an interesting, enjoyable experience, and I'll be here when you return."

Her hands slid out of his, and she stood, practically stumbling off of the bed. "Oh- are you leaving?" he asked, watching her head towards the door.

"Um, yes. There's an online math quiz due at midnight."

"Why not do it here?" Izzy asked, frowning at her back. Why wasn't she turning around to speak to him? Her behavior seemed to suggest that someone had placed a poster on the inside of his door without his knowledge.

She grabbed the knob and pulled. "You're busy. I'll come back up if I get stuck."

That was strange. Usually, Amy was happy to accept any invitation to stick around, but he also knew from experience that a stressed Amy was a strange Amy. It was probably best to give her some space and let her wander into a more balanced mood. "Alright. Please let me know if you think of something you'd like to do with me tomorrow."

"I'm not sure if I'll have time." Her body was mostly in the hall, so Izzy had to focus to make out the words. "I'll see how much I can get done." He suspected that she said goodbye, but the sound of the door closing muffled the words.

Izzy stared at the portal for a full twenty seconds, then shook his head. Very odd, he thought, turning back to his system. He tried to get back to work, but it was difficult to shake the feeling that Amy was unhappy, and that something he had said was the cause.

I'm supporting her, he thought, frowning at the screen. Joe was upset with Mimi before our last break because she was failing to offer that support. I'm sure my response was the appropriate one.

His thoughts ran in a similar vein, until he had entirely convinced himself that Amy was simply stressed, and that everything would be normal once she shrugged off whatever mood was riding her.

Shortly After

Amy glanced into her room, then nearly exclaimed with relief when she saw that Sora was out. Her roommate always seemed to know when she was out of sorts, and Amy didn't want to talk about this. Not now, and maybe not ever.

She bellyflopped on her bed and stayed there, with her face smushed into her pillow. It seemed strange that she wasn't dissolving into tears, but that rarely happened to her. There was no feverish sorrow, no flaring anger, no confused, woeful outcries of, "Why?"

Instead, there was grim resignation, and a cold, heavy feeling in her chest.

Matt's sick of taking care of me. Amy had sensed in high school that Matt was growing a bit tired of having her at his heels. That reluctance was replaced with a guilt-based eagerness to wait on her after prom, and that guilt made Amy picky about accepting his attention ever since.

Honestly, something in her understood his desire for space from her, even as that desire made her feel alone and small. She was just in the beginning stages of coming to terms with it. It was, she knew, high time to grit her teeth and stop ignoring Matt, even if hearing him argue for her departure hurt.

But she really had no way of accepting Izzy's attitude towards being apart from her for three months.

She shut her eyes against her pillow and breathed in deeply, acknowledging the aching in her chest. He doesn't care. It doesn't matter to him if I leave. Talking on the phone is no different for him than my being beside him.

And that was what hurt the most. The value of a partner who was willing to work around her plans was not lost on her, but the pain of one who didn't mind a separation at all was registering more strongly.

Are we really a couple? It's beginning to feel like we're friends who kiss every now and then. I thought it was just that our relationship was new, but now... It's been over six months, now.

Her mind blanked for a moment, but whether it was unable or simply unwilling to digest that question was unclear. So Amy moved on, summarizing her situation. Matt actively wants me to leave. Izzy doesn't see a difference between my being here and in Ohio.

She lifted her head, rolled over, and stared out the window. Fine, she thought. She felt monumentally, exquisitely defeated, like a general watching his last man drop. I love Matt. I love Izzy, even if I can't figure out how he feels about me sometimes. If they really think I should go... If they don't want me to stay... I guess maybe I should go.

Fear spread through her, chilling her like a poison. I don't want to be alone, she acknowledged. Her eyes drifted shut, and she tried to focus on the feeling of late afternoon sunlight against her lids. Why was fear so much more potent than all of her other emotions? She finally felt like she was going to shed some tears, and she fought against them, unwilling to cry in a fit of self-pity.

I don't want to be alone. But I really, really don't want to be as afraid of it as I always have been. I don't want to be as afraid in general.

She weighed the pros and cons of going and staying, then went over them a second time. She was waffling through a third attempt when her phone began to chirp and trill, the sound of a thrush singing.

Sighing, she fished her phone from her backpack, read the text, then hesitated. TK wanted to talk on Skype, and she wasn't sure that she was composed enough to do so. But it had been a while since she had seen his face, and she found herself standing and booting up her laptop, despite her misgivings.

A few minutes later, there he was, baby blues crinkling with his smile, golden hair partially obscured by a white bucket hat. Matt was always trying to get TK to stop wearing it, but Amy knew that it was called into duty on days when TK couldn't be bothered to tame his hair. While the brothers had locks whose color left girls breathless, Amy had watched them cursing at bathroom mirrors often enough to know that it was difficult to style.

"Hi, Amy," he said, flashing that boyish grin. Amy leaned closer, feeling ridiculously grateful for the soothing sensation spreading through her. "What's new?"

Amy shrugged, then fought against nervously licking her lips. The most honest answer would be an explanation of her bat situation, and of the difficulties it was causing her, but she hated dumping her troubles at TK's feet. "Ah, not much. College. Classes. Homework." She reached, somewhat desperately, for her backpack, removed a textbook, and waved it about.

"Uh oh. Should I clear out?" TK asked, grinning despite the words.

Somehow, Amy's cheek twitched upwards. Cheeky prat. He knows I'm not about to hang up on him. "I guess I can spare a few minutes."

TK smiled, but he didn't start talking. Amy's nerves kicked into gear as he hesitated, then tripped straight into overdrive as he started scratching his head through the hat. "Okay, hang it all. Full disclosure, here, Amy… Matt told me about the bats."

For a second, Amy offered him a stiff, gruesome facsimile of a smile. But her muscles only obeyed for so long, and she was soon staring blankly at TK. "O-oh?" she said at last, feeling weaker and more hollow than ever.

"Mm-hmm," TK replied, the sound blithe and humming. "Seems to be causing all sorts of problems."

"Did… Did Matt seem upset?" Amy knew that Matt wouldn't tell his brother something like this for the sake of gossiping. He must have been looking for advice, and his turning to TK seemed like a bad sign. It struck her as going against his whole 'tortured loner and exemplary elder brother' shtick.

TK's grin went lopsided. "You've got him chasing his tail in circles. It was hilarious."

Amy groaned, then dropped her face against her desk. "What do you think I should do, TK?" she demanded, lifting herself just enough to be understood.

He smiled and lifted his shoulders in a quick, bird-like motion. "If you're referring to Matt, don't worry about it. I think I convinced him to back off. If you're asking whether or not you should go… That's your call. But, if you want my opinion..." He hesitated, then spent a few seconds adjusting the rim of his hat. "You've been... held back from opportunities in the past. Wouldn't it be exciting to see what you can do with one?"

"What do you mean?" Amy asked, frowning.

TK stared at her for a moment, then narrowed his eyes. "You did local shows with Matt's band, but your parents wouldn't let you travel out of state with them. You had a job in high school, but your parents wouldn't let you learn to drive or borrow the car, so you had to be chauffeured, which killed most of your options. You were only allowed to apply to colleges in state. You were told that you couldn't go to an art or music school. You-"

Amy waved her hands around in front of her. "Okay, okay!" she cried. She didn't want to hear any more. Remembering each scenario was like feeling a separate blow, and she didn't have the constitution for that at the moment.

She cast about for a way to distract him, to banish the scowl on his face. "I guess it would be something I could write about, huh."

"That's true," TK said with a small laugh. He slowly sobered, and Amy tilted her head, unsure what to make of the seriousness in his expression.

"It's nice to see how quickly opportunities are coming to you, now that you're out in the world. It didn't take long for someone to notice your potential."

Nerves, embarrassment, and something like pleasure swept over her, making her sway awkwardly in her chair. "T-TK," she muttered, staring at her keyboard.

"I'm serious. You earned this. You've earned so much, already. Great grades, as usual. And you found yourself a job over the last break-"

"Well, Izzy found it," she muttered, but TK kept going.

"-and you performed so well that the professor is sending you elsewhere, picking you over all of the other kids. This is a vote of confidence, Amy. Your performance will reflect on him, and he's well aware of that. That's why he's sending the best he's got. I'd hate to see you sow the seeds, but leave the harvest to rot."

Staring was the most Amy could manage. She hadn't thought about it like that. In her mind, the situation had merely materialized in front of her, like a particularly beautiful view in a kaleidoscope.

She hesitated, then lifted her eyes to his. "TK… Do you really think I can handle this?"

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Amy. Your professor thinks so, and he's way smarter than me, at least when it comes to bats, and the research thereof."

"You know that's not what I meant," she said quietly.

All signs of playfulness fled from TK's face, rendering it strange, foreign, and oddly compelling. Amy felt frozen, unable to look away. "You can. I know you can."

A shuddering sound slipped out of her, and she felt her eyes going wet. "TK… Thank you. I… Listen. Thanks for calling, but-"

TK leaned back, waved a hand, and grinned. "I get it, I get it. You can only take so much serious stuff, right? I'm the same way. I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah. Goodbye."

Amy cut the call off, covered her face with her hands, and fought against tears.

Immediately After

As soon as the call ended, TK slumped over in his chair. His head fell back against the headrest, and his hat dropped to the floor. Kari laughed quietly on his bed.

"Was it hard to be serious for so long?" she teased, standing and walking behind his chair. Her hands went to his shoulders and rubbed, and he leaned into the touch.

"Ugghhh," he groaned. "You have no idea. I think that conversation took a week off of my lifespan."

Kari smiled, then tweaked his cheek, a quiet scold. "You were perfect, you know."

TK tipped the chair back, then swiveled his eyes up, so that they landed on hers. "Think she'll go?"

Kari leaned over him and pressed her lips against his, partly because she was grateful for his intercession, and partly because she just wanted to. When she pulled away, his eyes were still shut. His audible exhalation stroked her heart, and she dropped another kiss on his forehead in response.

When he finally opened his eyes, she held his gaze, smiled, and gave her answer.

"She'll go."

Author's Notes: I like to think that TK slowly planned a new persona for himself as a preteen. Once he was happy with it, he donned it one day, like a new skin, thereby confusing the ever-loving shit out of everyone.

Oh, for those who haven't read Emma or seen one of the movies, it's a Regency period comedy of manners about a well-off woman whose advice, while well-meaning, keeps messing up the life of her friend. By the end of the book, she comes to realize that her ways aren't always right for everyone, she starts seeing things that she missed because of her self-absorption, and both she and her friend find love.

TK suggesting this as a make-up gift for Amy is another kick in Matt's crotch, but Amy definitely will understand the meaning behind it. It's a way of saying, "I'm sorry for all of that unsolicited advice, and I recognize that your life is your own." Luckily, TK knows Matt won't get the significance, anyway, so no harm done XD

But then, TK also knows that Amy will immediately guess who suggested the gift!

Tricky bastard.

Also, when Amy told Izzy she was thinking of going, she was mostly just probing for a reaction. Obviously, she didn't like the one she received. All I could think of was, "Izzy. No. Izzy. What are you- No!"

Ahh, well. What will these silly kids do next?

Who knows! Because it's Seeking Resonance next (much more TK and Kari, yaaaay!), and then Growing Up with You. Stay tuned!