Darcy's up early the next morning, in part so that she can avoid more of Claire's constant prying questions before school, in part so that she'll have time to finish the homework that had gone undone the day before. She finds herself at school before almost anyone else; the front doors of the building are unlocked and she heads inside. Instinct brings her to the media immersion lab, but Mr Simpson hasn't arrived yet, and – perhaps because of the computers – the doors to the classroom are locked. No matter. She settles herself down on the floor by the classroom and takes out her English book to begin her reading for Ms Kwan. The subject matter of the story lends itself well to daydreaming, so she makes very little progress before Mr Simpson arrives.

He is flustered when he sees her; he yawns and blushes and nearly drops both his mug of coffee and his room keys. "Good morning, Darcy," he manages to say.

Darcy's blushing too, but she manages to smile up at him. "Good morning. You look tired."

"I am," he admits. "Didn't get much sleep last night." What seems like an eternity of fumbling with his keys finally results in success, and the door is successfully opened. He reaches in, switches on the lights. "All the fault of the time difference to Calgary." Without thinking, he reaches down a hand to help Darcy to her feet.

She clasps his hand, steadies herself as she stands up. "Calgary?" she asks, still clinging to his hand.

"My best friend moved there. A few months ago." He misses Joey. He misses Joey a lot. It was good to talk to him, although he didn't get to say half the things he wanted to. It was difficult – he knew he needed to sleep, and both Diane and Craig were variously heard in the background needing Joey's attention.

"I'm sorry. I never recovered when my best friend moved away. I was thirteen." And maybe, Darcy thinks, maybe if Lindsay hadn't gone to Fredericton, maybe things would have turned out differently. "I don't know who my best friend is now," she realises, takes a moment to ponder this. Lindsay, then Kim from Friendship Club. Then Spinner, and now, possibly…Manny Santos? She realises she's still holding the teacher's hand, and reluctantly relinquishes it.

Archie Simpson smiles to himself. He'd started to tell Joey about Darcy – no specific details, just a hint of his wanting. And that made them both think of Julia. "We had this friend, Joey and I," he murmurs. "She was my friend first, a classmate at university, and then she became Joey's. Joey was a ladies' man through and through…" he trails off, smiling again with the memory, "so it didn't surprise any of us when he fell for her. He'd have done anything for her, anything at all. But she didn't ask anything of him. He adored her and he was helpless. And then she shows up on his doorstep with a broken arm. She needs him. Sometimes men like to be needed," he muses.

"Then what happened?" Darcy asks, caught up in the story.

"Joey figures out who's responsible, tracks him down, and punches him in the nose." It's an interesting parable, the story of Joey and Julia, and Archie hadn't been planning on telling it. But somehow it fits the mood, just now.

Darcy smiles. "Mr Simpson? If I ever find the guy who did…who…you know," she stumbles a bit on the words. "If I do, I promise you can punch him in the nose."

"It would be an honour," he says solemnly, and it isn't until later he realises that she's drawn all the correct parallels from the parable. Sometimes men like to be needed, and sometimes men lose their hearts to the impossible and are willing to make the impossible possible, never mind age-gaps and abusive husbands and silent sad-eyed sons. Never mind the odds. Never mind.

"Thank you Mr Simpson," says Darcy, then she frowns. "That's not right. Snake? No." A pause, and then, shyly – throatily, as if she knows it's something greatly daring, something she shouldn't get away with – "Archie."

The sound of his name said in that voice makes him blush so deeply he can't look at her. The bell rings, and for that he's eternally grateful. Somehow he'll get through the rest of the day.

(He'll stir in the middle of the night, be almost awakened from dreams of her, violet-scented and hesitantly breathing his name.)

Author's Note:

Thank you all so much for the great feedback! Special thanks to Judy Arlene, your Hollywood tragedy x3, mellifluous cloud, maniacmaniac23, and miss Hogart for reviewing. They really mean a lot to me! Thanks. I'd also like to thank all the others out there who are writing great Darcy/Simpson fics. It's so good to feed my addiction with stories! I hope this chapter was as good as the last two were.