yikes I've been neglecting this story so badly. sorry to anyone who's invested in it! I realized that in my mind I had this story planned out more as a film so translating it into a story has been difficult if that makes any sense. no? okay cool. I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway :)

"Are you sure you're okay with going to the Christmas party?" Steve asked Charlie for the hundredth time ever since Nancy and Johnathan went home the day before. "I can say you got sick or something. You don't have to go."

Charlie's gaze didn't move from the television screen that played Grease. "I want to go." She said in between bites of popcorn. "If I change my mind I'll let you know. Now shut up."

"Okay, okay, sorry."

Steve turned back towards the screen just in time to see Rizzo put on a blonde wig and do an insulting yet accurate impression of Sandy. Charlie burst out laughing at the line about getting sick from smoking one cigarette. She managed composed herself when her cheeks started turning red at the realization that she had fully laughed in front of him. The sound was melodic and one of the happiest things he'd ever heard. An ear to ear grin suited her face much better than her blank poker face.

The more time passed the more she started opening up to him. Steve had found subtle ways of asking her about her life in between her escape and return to Hawkins. Why pancakes were her favorite food (because she went to the same diner every morning and a waitress who knew she was homeless gave her pancakes for free), what her favorite song was (Nowhere Man by the Beatles), what her favorite season was (spring because it had the most comfortable weather for living on the street). Though she was slowly letting her walls down she'd never actually laughed in front of him before.

"You're staring at me."

Steve felt his face get hot and he quickly moved his gaze back to the screen, watching Rizzo climb out of the window to hang out with the guys. "Sorry."

Bit by bit the awkwardness started to fade away once again. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her, planning ways to make her laugh again in the future. Charlie's laugh was a sound he knew he needed to hear more than just once.

It was safe to say he was falling for her.

Charlie shifted next to him, chewing on an unpopped kernel. "I hate the way it sounds. That's why I don't do it."

He looked back over at her. "What?"

"My laugh."

Steve frowned at her, reading the discomfort in her face. Either he was getting better at reading her or she was getting worse at keeping a poker face in front of him. "What are you talking about?" he asked her. "It's not ugly."

Though her eyes were still looking at the screen he could tell she wasn't actually focusing on it. "Yes it is."

"It's really not."

He waited for her to reply but she stayed quiet. Clearly she didn't believe him. He was just about to turn his attention back to the movie when he spotted a small drop of blood drip out her nose. While his cheeks turned red with embarrassment that she had likely heard how cute he thought her laugh was he offered up his sleeve. She wiped the blood off her nose with the black fabric, a small smile appearing on her face when she let go of his sweatshirt.

"Thanks." She said. He knew she was thanking him for more than just letting her wipe her blood on him.

Once the movie was over they got into the car and drove to the grocery store on the opposite side of town to get something to eat for the rest of the week. Food went a lot quicker when there was someone else there to eat it. Charlie fiddled with the radio, with some of his help figuring out how to use it, and eventually left it on a station that played songs from the 60's. Though the grocery store was practically on the opposite side of town the drive was still short.

"What do you want for dinner tonight?" Steve asked as they headed towards the entrance. "And don't say pancakes, we had those yesterday."

He looked over at her, hands shoved in the pockets of the sweatshirt he'd let her borrow and a pout on her face. "Then I don't care."

"I'll make them tomorrow morning." Steve bargained. "But you need to eat real food."

Since Steve's cooking abilities were extremely limited they wandered over to the frozen food section. He had to lead her away from the frozen waffles over to the vegetables. She picked out a bag of peas and corn as well as a couple of meals for when Steve went back to work and wouldn't be home to make her something. He could see her struggling to hold everything so he hurried to the front of the store to get a basket.

His parents were coming home from their vacation in a little more than a week and he was already beginning to panic about where Charlie would go. He could ask Hopper if she could stay with him and Eleven, but even if they agreed he wasn't sure Charlie trusted them enough. There was a possibility he could attempt to hide her in his house the same way Mike had with Eleven. But his parents room was on the way to the bathroom down the hall. It was all just too risky. At some point he'd have to talk to her about it. But not when she was in a good mood.

When he turned the corner into the isle that he'd left Charlie in he instantly spotted an unpleasantly familiar face standing next to her. Billy Hargrove had on a sickeningly sweet smile as he talked to Charlie. Next to him she looked even smaller than usual. It didn't help that she was practically drowning in the sweatshirt she'd borrowed that morning. As Steve hurried over to them his stomach churned at the sight of Billy's eyes running over her body.

"And how is it I've never seen your pretty face around here before?" Steve heard him ask once he got close enough.

"I don't really go out a lot." She answered flatly.

She turned and looked over her shoulder just before he reached her, a look of relief crossing over her face when she saw him. Charlie dumped her things into the basket he held before wiping the melted ice water off her hands.

"You okay?" he asked, sneaking a glance at a less charismatic looking Billy.

"Fine." She said. She didn't look it.

"And, uh, how exactly do you two know each other?" Billy asked, pointing between them.

"She's a family friend." Steve answered. "She's staying with me for the holidays."

Billy's gaze moved back to Charlie, the very fake grin he'd previously been wearing returning. "Well I do hope Harrington is treating you right, sweetheart."

Her blue eyes narrowed at him slightly. "He's treating me fine."

Either Charlie wasn't nearly as intimidating as Steve thought she was or Billy was just immune to her icy glare. Steve wished he could smack the grin right off his stupid face. "Well maybe I can see you again? You might need someone to show you around if you've never been here before."

"I've been here before." Charlie said, her voice as icy as her stare. "And I have someone to show me around, already. Thanks."
Billy looked back and forth between them again. Steve wondered if he picked up on how Charlie inched towards him. His smile grew tighter and seemed more forced. "Alright then." He said, taking a few steps back. "Well, maybe I'll see you two around."

Steve watched him walk away, a smug swagger in his step that made Steve want to push him over. A strange but strong sense of protectiveness over Charlie had settled over him in the four days they'd known each other. She felt comfortable with him. Likely only with him. It was his job to protect her from anyone or anyone who might be a threat, the same way they all had for Eleven. Billy definitely classified as a threat.

He felt her tug on his sleeve, quickly snapping him out of his thoughts. He turned towards her as she wiped her nose on her hand, for a moment worrying she had heard what he thought about her. "Steve?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

"What does 'slut' mean?"

His eyes widened in surprise and he glanced over to where Billy had disappeared at the end of the isle. "Did he think that about you?"

She tugged on his sleeve again, bringing his attention back to her. "What does it mean?"

"It, uh…" his voice faltered slightly. There was no way in hell he could tell her what it meant. Not until she told him what Billy had thought about her. Obviously if the word was in his mind he wasn't exactly thinking gentlemanly things about her. "It's a really not nice thing to call a woman. And it's really inappropriate."

One of her eyebrows disappeared under her brows and she glanced at the spot where Billy disappeared. "Like 'whore'?"

"Yeah it's exactly like that." Steve reached for her arm and gently pulled her in the opposite direction. "Don't pay attention to him, okay? He's a jerk who doesn't know what he's talking about. You're not a slut."

She fell into step next to him, her expression still thoughtful. "I guess." Before he had the chance to argue that she absolutely wasn't she spoke up again. "How do you know him?"

"From school." He said, "And…" Steve looked away from her, already embarrassed. "He's the one I got in a fight with in November."

"What?" Charlie grabbed his arm to stop him. "He's the one that beat you up?" Steve reluctantly nodded. "Do you want me to go kick his ass?"

"Absolutely not."

Charlie rolled her eyes at him. "You can't let people just bully you around, Steve. I saw how badly he beat you up. That's not okay. Just because Max stood up to him doesn't mean you can't too."

"I will." She raised an eyebrow at him. "I will. But you can't fight my battles for me?"

"Why not?"

Steve sighed, "Why would you? You're leaving anyway right? You don't care enough."

"Just because I'm going to leave doesn't mean I don't care." She snapped back. Some of her intensity from the night they met was beginning to return. "Did you ever think that the reason I want to leave might be because I care."

He rolled his eyes, "How does that make any sense?"

She crossed her arms across her chest. "Maybe I don't want you to get hurt for helping me. I have a long track record of getting good people in trouble."

He raised an eyebrow at her, his lips twitching up into a smile despite how he tried to keep them straight. "So what you're saying is you care about me? That you're just pretending to hate me?"

Charlie hesitated, blinking up at him a few times. Steve anticipated seeing a drop of blood appear from her nose but it never came. "I never said I hated you."

"Not with your words."

She rolled her eyes at him and started heading for the registers again. He quickly caught up to her. "Well I don't hate you. I'm just not very good at being nice to people."

When they reached the register, Steve set the basket down and glanced over at her. Her eyes were cold and he followed his gaze, his own eyes landing on Billy standing by the entrance watching them. Almost as soon as he looked at him Steve felt Charlie's arm wrap around his waist and stay close to his side. He quickly looked away and kept his gaze fixed on the frozen bag of peas she had picked out, afraid the increased blood flow to his face would cause his head to explode.

"Will you let me know if he ever bothers you again?" Charlie asked as they walked back to the car. "I'll take care of him for you."

"You don't have to do that." He said, a small smile making its way onto his face.

"I know." She said, setting her bags in the back seat. "I want to."

Steve wondered what he'd done in a past life to be so lucky. Charlie could have dug through the garbage on any other night. Steve could have easily been upstairs in his room and not have heard her. She could have turned and ran the second she saw him. She could have snuck out in the middle of the night, or the next day when he took her to see Hopper. There were a million things that could have happened differently that would have prevented her from openly admitting she cared about him, something that made his stomach do a backflip.

"You should have heard what he thought before." Charlie said, a smug grin on her face as she got into the passenger's seat next to him. "He's definitely got some kind of superiority/inferiority complex."

"What did he think?" Steve asked, glancing around for any sign of Billy's flashy car as he drove though the parking lot.

She replied in her best impression of Billy, which was pretty accurate. "I can't believe Harrington got a girl like that. She should know what she's missing out on. Blah, blah, blah." Charlie looked over at him with a wider smile than he expected to see on her. "I would rather drink gasoline than touch him. Unless it's to punch him in the face."

"Maybe you shouldn't even do that." Steve suggested. "The contact alone might get him off."

Charlie snorted and shook her head. "I'll kick him then. At least my shoe will create a barrier."

"Remind me to buy you a pair of steel toed boots."

She laughed again, the sound just as melodic as it had been earlier. She didn't attempt to compose herself right away and she didn't cover her mouth with her hand. For someone with such an intimidating face she had a dangerously contagious laugh.