A/N: Sorry about the delay everyone! Grad school is hard work, haha. I've been so happy to see all your comments though about missing my updates! Hope you enjoy this one!

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Holmes didn't stick around for long. After berating Lancaster for his complicit attitude and hocking a loogy in Cody's protein shake blend to alleviate some of his rage, he set off quickly to find Toby at work. First of all, he knew he had to get out of the house before Cody was done showering; if he didn't, he would not be responsible for his own actions. Also, he knew how important it was to warn Toby and calm him down before he got home – otherwise, there would likely be a team-effort homicide on their hands.

It was a Saturday, so he knew that Toby would be having a slow day. With so many students staying in for the weekend, there was not much action to work with. On these days, Toby could typically be found reading a book in the Diag. And Holmes instinctively knew that's where he would be.

And sure enough, there he was: seated on a bench near the Hatcher Graduate Library, in full university security uniform, flipping through the pages of The Catcher in the Rye. He didn't notice as Holmes approached – he was far too engaged in his book.

Holmes paused for a moment, trying to decide how to most delicately approach the situation. Should he just blurt it out, like ripping off a Band-Aid? Or should he ease Toby into the news, so as to better control his emotional reaction?

Screw it, he decided, knowing that he was personally far too angry to take it slow.

"Cavanaugh."

Toby looked up curiously. "Holmes," he stated, surprised. Holmes used to visit Toby at work on a frequent basis, until he had enrolled in summer courses. Since then, he had been less reliable in his cameos.

"We need to talk, man. And you're not going to like what I have to say."

Toby lowered his book carefully, his expressive eyes tainted with panic. "Is it Spencer? Is she hurt?"

"Worse," Holmes breathed, feeling suddenly winded. Though he was physically fit by army standards, he had not noticed the quickened pace at which he had run from the house and to the Diag. It was a good mile and a half that he had breached in less than three minutes.

"Worse?" Toby demanded, standing. "How could it be worse?"

"It's Cody." Toby's eyes flashed dangerously. "I overheard him telling Lancaster that he was the one that put all that shit in her head about you."

Toby tightened his grip on the book, bending the cover. "I'm going to kill him."

"It gets worse."

Toby scoffed irritably. "Again?"

"He ran into her today – something about taking her to a poetry reading tonight – he said he's going to try to get laid."

Toby visibly clenched his teeth, curling his book into a cylindrical shape. "She wouldn't do anything," he murmured darkly, appearing more that he was trying to convince himself than Holmes.

"Maybe not," Holmes said slowly, "but what about Cody?"

This dangerous possibility ruminated in the space between them for a moment as they both considered the implications. Toby was positively shaking with rage.

"He's a dead man," he vowed, grabbing his water from the bench and beginning to hastily stride back in the direction of the house. Holmes had to run to keep up with him, as he was considerably short in comparison.

"What are you going to do?" Holmes demanded.

"Kill him with my bare hands," Toby declared with deadpan, as though it were obvious.

"Be realistic, man," Holmes protested, catching up to Toby and walking backwards so as to face him. "You can't go back there unless you have a plan."

Toby stopped abruptly, nearly running into Holmes. He studied him carefully for a moment before speaking. "I thought you said you'd have my back."

"Dude. You know I do," Holmes agreed. "But you know that if we go back there and kick his ass, we face the possibility of not only legal shit, but also being discharged. Any assault charges on our records and we're out of the army forever."

Toby exhaled heavily, a hint of a growl in his breath.

"I want him to bleed as much as you do," Holmes continued. "But we have to think about what happens after that."

Toby shook his head dejectedly, his jaw still squared stubbornly. "Then what the hell do we do?"

Holmes sighed heavily. Now came the tricky part…coming up with a way to fix it without using physical force. Not exactly his forte.

"We wait. We wait for him to pull something…which we know he will." Toby's volatile grip on his water bottle did not go unnoticed by Holmes. "And we confront him…and if we're lucky, then we have an excuse to kick his ass."

Toby scoffed and rolled his eyes impatiently. "That's ridiculous, Holmes. We can't just wait around for him to do something…What if Spencer falls for his act before we get our opportunity?"

Holmes considered this for a moment, the wheels turning rapidly. "Okay. So they're going to that poetry reading, right?" Toby nodded exasperatedly. "Okay. Then that's where we'll start."

"I can't imagine the poetry reading will be terribly packed," Toby reasoned sarcastically. "They'll see that we're there."

Holmes threw up his hands in frustration. "I dunno man, you got a better plan?"

"Yeah. Kill him."

"Cavanaugh," Holmes began slowly, attempting to further rationalize his argument. "As much of a dick as he is, he hasn't actually done anything other than be his usual douchebag self."

Toby seemed to turn this over in his head. True – Cody had overstepped his boundaries by asking Spencer out – but unfortunately, Holmes was right…Toby had to choose his battles wisely.

Toby was biting down so fiercely on the inside of his cheek that he tasted blood. His eyes wandered behind Holmes, considering this proposition. "Where do we start?"

"You're what?"

"It's not a big deal. Seriously."

Hanna looked about ready to have an aneurism. Spencer was nonchalantly putting the finishing touches on her makeup in the bathroom mirror, trying to ignore Hanna's indignant reflection behind her.

"Not a big deal?" Hanna practically shrieked. "This guy is a creeper, Spence."

"It's just a poetry reading," Spencer argued. "Not a marriage proposal."

"Poetry reading my ass," Hanna protested, throwing her hands into the air in frustration. "He's trying to get laid."

"That's not it."

"Yeah?" Hanna continued, a hand on her hip. "It's the biggest trick in the book, Spence. A guy rattles off poetry to get you all gooey-eyed, then he rips your pants off."

Spencer rolled her eyes. "Well, how's this? Even if that's what he's counting on, I'm not interested. Okay?"

"Not yet, you're not," Hanna began darkly. "But wait until he cracks out the big guns…Something like…David Bowie."

Spencer chuckled. "Bowie's a singer. Not a poet."

"Whatever," Hanna dismissed. "You know what I mean."

"Seriously, Han," Spencer reassured. "I have no interest in doing anything other than a poetry reading."

"And if he asks you on another date?" Hanna challenged. "What then?"

Spencer shrugged absentmindedly, focusing now on perfecting her hair. "I'll say no."

"What if he has all the right moves though?" Hanna demanded, a hint of a growl in her irritated voice.

"What 'moves'?" Spencer countered. "I've been around enough guys in my life. Pretty sure I have the capacity to resist."

Hanna shook her head, exhaling loudly. "You're worrying me, Spence."

Spencer forced an uncertain laugh, hoping to lighten the tension in slight. "What do you mean?"

"I just…I dunno…" Hanna trailed off, seemingly deep in thought. She eyed the back of Spencer's head carefully, an action that did not go unnoticed by the latter due to the mirror's reflection of her facial expression.

"What about Toby?"

Spencer felt an invisible hand squeeze her heart. "What about him?"

"He'd be pissed, Spence."

Spencer remained silent.

"Oh, my God," Hanna declared suddenly, eyes widening in realization. "That's why you're doing it."

Spencer ignored her accusation.

Hanna sighed heavily, putting a comforting hand on Spencer's arm. "You don't have to do this…there are other ways to tell him how he made you feel…"

"It's not about Toby," Spencer decided suddenly, wrenching her arm away none-too-gently. She knew somewhere in her subconscious that this statement was more for her own benefit than Hanna's: she had been trying to convince herself all afternoon.

This response culminated in an awkward silence. Spencer quickly made peace with the condition of her hair, anxious to make her exit.

"I'm going to be late," she said conclusively, making the first move to end the conversation. She appreciated Hanna's concern – she truly did – but in all fairness, it was none of her business to be commenting in the first place. Spencer felt slightly irritated at her persistence, and was feeling more rebellious than ever. The prospect of the date was looking better and better.

"Spence," Hanna began dejectedly as her friend was exiting the bathroom. Spencer turned expectantly. "You're only wearing one earring."

The defeat in Hanna's voice was a secret triumph to Spencer; she was giving up the fight and finally relenting to let Spencer make her own decisions.

"Thanks," she murmured uncomfortably, grabbing the other hoop from the bathroom counter. As she left the bathroom and breezed out the apartment door, she didn't allow herself to stop and look back. If she caught another look of disappointment on Hanna's face, she may surely begin to reconsider her judgment.

She was so distracted crossing the threshold of the vestibule into the outside world that she nearly hit someone on the porch with the door.

"Oh God, I'm – " She took one look at the person and immediately stopped. "Holmes…" she began tiredly. "What do you want?"

Derek Holmes had been prepared to throw the door open and march up to her apartment, making a profound speech about how foolish she would be to trust – let alone go on a date with – Jeff Cody. Now that she stood before him, he felt suddenly unsure about the proper way to breach the topic at hand.

"You know why I'm here," he declared simply, all pearls of wisdom suddenly evading him.

Spencer groaned, beginning to make her way around him. "I've had enough unnecessary parenting for one day, thanks."

"You shouldn't be doing this," Holmes stated, ignoring her previous comment. He trailed beside her effortlessly, even when she attempted to pick up her walking pace.

"A lot of people shouldn't be doing a lot of things," Spencer muttered cryptically, though she knew the primary person this statement referenced.

"Prime example: Cody shouldn't be treading on this ground," Holmes quipped.

"Not exactly who I meant," Spencer retorted.

"If you're talking about Toby," Holmes began, "then you should really reconsider what Cody has told you. Think about how long you've known him compared to how long you've known Toby. This should be a no-brainer, Spencer."

"Thought-provoking," she countered sarcastically, refusing to acknowledge him with her eyes as she continued trying to make her escape.

"I'm serious."

She stopped in her tracks, catching Holmes off-guard. He stumbled frantically to a halt beside her.

"Serious?" she demanded, feeling suddenly irate at everyone's attempt to challenge her feelings. "How's this for serious? I spent two years trying to get over him. At this point in my life, he is the only person I've ever loved." She took a deep breath, striving to calm the tremor rising in her voice. "If he felt the same, he would have had the decency to be honest."

Holmes leapt in front of her to prevent her from continuing her trek. He took her by the shoulders and looked her square in the eyes. "You haven't given him a chance to be."

Simple as this comment was, it resonated like a proverbial slap in the face. She knew Holmes made sense, but at the same time, she was furious at his unconditional support for someone that had hurt her so badly.

"Why should I?" she challenged. "I know everything I need to. And I'm not okay with him keeping secrets from me." A guilty pang suddenly seared through her heart, knowing that this new standard was hypocritical in comparison to her past of clandestine detective work surrounding 'A.'

"Stop being so goddamn stubborn," Holmes grumbled in frustration. "You're making it far more complicated than you need to."

She raised an indignant eyebrow before warningly pushing his hands away from her shoulders. "Go to hell."

"Spencer," he fumbled, knowing he had crossed a proverbial line. Women and their damned sensitivity…

"You don't even know me," she growled through gritted teeth. "You have no right to make any judgments about me."

"You're right – I don't know you, and I shouldn't have said that." Without so much as the batting of an eyelash, Spencer had stepped around him once more to continue walking.

"Spencer," he protested from his stance on the sidewalk, knowing that following her again would only make her angrier. "Be careful. Please."

"Fuck off," Spencer responded, though having said it under her breath, she knew he didn't hear.

Hanna hadn't felt anxiety like this in months. It was as though there were a thousand butterflies in her stomach – not the cutesy romantic kind, but the sort that carried pitchforks and breathed fire. Devil dragon butterflies. The kind of butterflies that made you feel like you'd climb out of your own skin if you didn't submit to the adrenaline rush.

She couldn't explain it – but she was terrified for Spencer. She had never seen her so out of her right mind before. It was unnerving and it shook up her world.

She heard her phone beep from the living room. Rushing out of her pace in the kitchen to retrieve it, she found that it was from Toby.

"Keep her occupied as long as you can. I'm on my way to stop Cody right now."

Hanna's fingers flew rapidly as she typed her response. "She already left."

"Shit," was his only reply.

Literally just as her brain processed his meaning, there was a fervent banging on the door. Though she rushed toward it, the person continued to knock as though they'd break it down.

She threw it open. Holmes. He didn't wait for an invitation; he simply hurried inside.

"What do we do?" he asked desperately.

"I don't know," Hanna replied helplessly, throwing her hands out in a dramatic shrug of resignation. "I tried to talk her out of it."

"He's only doing it to get back at Toby," Holmes quipped. "I overheard him telling Lancaster that he just wants to have sex with her."

Hanna gulped. With Spencer's current vulnerability, she worried about her ability to make sound judgments. And Spencer was the sort of person that regretted her mistakes heavily, almost to a point of depression. Her family had never taken failure lightly, and Spencer's need to over-achieve and toe the line made this terribly apparent.

"If he pushes hard enough, she'll do it," Hanna said dejectedly.

"I hope not," Holmes muttered. "You have no idea who that man has been with…" The way in which he trailed off made Hanna suddenly very itchy.

"So what the hell do we do?" she demanded. "Toby just texted me and said he's on his way to talk to Cody, but I don't think — "

"He's what?" Holmes cried. "That stupid, stubborn, son-of-a-bitch…I told him not to do anything reckless…"

"We have to go," Hanna decided, grabbing her purse and yanking Holmes towards the door by his arm. "Now."

TO BE CONTINUED