A/N: Sorry everyone for the long wait. After the funeral, I got Bronchitis, and am still fighting with it. Hopefully I'll be back on a solid track soon! Thanks for all your supportive reviews. They mean so much to me.

It's short, but hopefully will be sufficient for you all to forgive the delay!

Without further adieu, here is the next chapter!

CHAPTER 2

The rest of class was unbearably awkward for Hanna, who, despite her efforts to ignore him, could feel his eyes burning in the back of her head the entire time. Periodically, she would turn around to look at him, as if to confirm that she was not hallucinating. Each and every time, there he was, staring back at her.

When the instructor finally dismissed them, she grabbed her purse and hastily bolted towards the door. Several people were congregating at the exit, however, and she was having difficulty squeezing through them.

"Excuse me…excuse me," she pleaded desperately, nearly knocking over a desk in her haste.

"Hanna! Hanna, wait!"

She knew it was him calling for her. She pretended not to hear.

At last she was able to maneuver through the doorway and into the halls, attempting to lose herself in the shuffle.

"Hanna! Come on, two seconds…"

She came to a hesitant stop, whipping around to look at him.

"Sorry, Cody, but I can't see how you could possibly deserve two seconds of my time."

"I know…but please," he continued desperately as he approached her.

"What the hell are you even doing here?" Hanna demanded. "You should be in prison."

"Three months in state penitentiary," Cody confirmed. "I'm out on parole, since I don't have a criminal history…and the military helped cut me some deals…"

"They should have discharged your ass," Hanna seethed.

"They did. But they still don't want one of their former men giving them a bad reputation." He looked over his shoulder, as if checking for eavesdroppers. "So they got me through – cleared my name – and then dropped me."

"Good. You deserve it. And more." Hanna indignantly tossed her hair over one shoulder, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Listen to me," he began with a heavy sigh. "Look, I know that I'm probably not the person you want to be working with…"

"I don't even want to share the same oxygen as you," Hanna corrected. "I'm dropping the class."

"Fine. That's fine. I don't blame you." He rubbed his forehead tiredly. "I need you to do me a favor though."

"You don't deserve any favors," Hanna scoffed.

"Maybe not," he agreed. "But you're Spencer's best friend, and you do owe her a favor…"

Hanna looked at him, perplexed. She couldn't tell what he was trying to get at.

"Just – don't tell her you saw me. Okay? I'm not back to hurt anyone. I just want to go to school, finish my degree, and get the hell out of this state."

"Why shouldn't I tell her?" Hanna challenged.

"Because she and Cavanaugh will nail my ass to the ground," he replied. "That's the last thing I need right now. I'm trying to get on with my life."

Hanna studied her fingernails, trying to appear as nonchalant as she could.

"Besides," he continued, "I'm sure you don't want to hurt Spencer for no reason."

Hanna's breath hitched in her throat. That much was right…she never wanted to hurt Spencer…

"If you tell her you saw me, she'll just freak out," Cody provided. "Don't do that to her."

Hanna knew that despite his argument, he had no genuine concern for Spencer's wellbeing. How could he? After all he had done? It had nothing to do with her…it was simply a clever weapon to unleash in the midst of his argument. The "best friend" card. Hanna's Achilles Heel.

She found herself irritated. His debate was certainly compelling. He knew what to say to make Hanna consider being talked out of it.

"It's your decision," he concluded definitively, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. "But I think that if we pretend this never happened, a lot of people will be better off." With that, he pushed past her and towards the front door of the building.

Hanna stared after him, speechless. On the one hand, Spencer may never forgive her if she didn't tell her. But on the other…he was right, in some twisted way: it would just worry Spencer. It would hinder all the progress she had made since what happened. She would be back at square one of recovery, having the same nightmares and paranoia every time she heard a noise in the house.

The last thing she wanted to do was see her best friend regress back to that point.

So that was that. She'd drop the class and forget the entire mess. Wash her hands of it. Move on.

It was that simple. Right?

"My brain hurts," Holmes quipped as he and Spencer merged into the line of students exiting the lecture hall. "He barely skimmed the surface of the first unit and I'm already feeling confused. Those Descartes meditations? What the hell?"

"Well there are six total," Spencer began, adjusting her backpack on her shoulder. "But we're only going to study the first three, since they're the most famous. They're all about calling your senses into question, and whether your senses deceive you every day, or whether they are an accurate representation of the world around you."

Holmes made a face.

"Sorry, I read the first three chapters of the textbook already," Spencer stated.

"Of course you did," Holmes replied, rolling his eyes.

"I'm glad we have this class together though," Spencer added. "It's nice to have a friendly face sitting next to you in a class of two hundred people."

"Agreed," Holmes said, holding the front door of the building open for her. She stepped out, wrapping her winter jacket more tightly around her frame. "I hate sitting through those lectures by myself. Besides, now I have a study buddy."

"I hope by 'study buddy' you mean 'study buddy,' and not 'homework slave'," Spencer laughed. "Made that mistake with Hanna once upon a time…"

"How is Hanna?" Holmes interrupted as they crossed the campus diag to head back towards the house. "I mean, she seems pretty torn up about this Caleb mess."

"She is," Spencer confirmed. "But Hanna bounces back fast. She doesn't like other people controlling her happiness. None of us do." As Spencer explained, she knew that she was talking about 'A' and all that he (or she) had done to disrupt their very lives. However, it was cryptic enough of an explanation for Holmes to not question it.

"Of course not," he agreed. "I'm just concerned. She's usually the one cheering everyone else up, you know?"

"Yeah," Spencer responded distantly as they continued walking. She hated to see Hanna hurting, too. Hanna was the kind of person who loved with all of her heart, and took no shortcuts in the process. Being let down was something she had never handled well. But her perseverant optimism was unyielding, and always shined through the fog after the initial mourning period. Getting her out of bed this morning had been a feat in and of itself. It was a start in the right direction.

"Do you think they'll get back together?" Holmes inquired, kicking clumps of snow out of his path.

"I don't know. Why do you ask?" Spencer inquired cheekily, knocking elbows with him.

"What do you mean, 'why do I ask'?" Holmes demanded indignantly.

"I dunno," Spencer said in a sing-song tone, a slight skip in her step. "Just thinking that maybe your chance is coming up…"

Holmes stopped dead. "My what?"

Spencer paused with him, her smile faltering in slight. "Sorry," she began quickly. "I'm not trying to interfere."

"No, what does that mean?" Holmes demanded, growing more irritable by the second.

"I just thought – I dunno," Spencer began pathetically, playing with the doilies on her scarf. "I just thought that there might be something there…with you two."

"It's not like that," Holmes insisted, picking up his pace once more. Spencer easily caught up to him.

"It would be okay if it was," she said supportively, looping her arm through his. "I know she means a lot to you. And sometimes those feelings keep evolving."

Holmes rolled his eyes, sending Spencer a sidelong smirk. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?"

Spencer grinned. "I won't lie. I think you'd be good for her. She needs someone consistent in her life. Caleb was great for a while…but long distance was never Hanna's strong point. She needs a boyfriend who is local."

"I don't exactly qualify as local," Holmes corrected. "I could deploy at any second."

"True," Spencer began vaguely, "but you're here now."

Holmes didn't reply for a moment.

"Just food for thought," she concluded cryptically.

"Well it's not like you've just given me a snack's worth of food for thought. I'm munching on an entire Thanksgiving feast here," Holmes laughed.

"So it's something to consider?" Spencer asked excitedly, squeezing her arm more tightly around his.

"Maybe. Someday. Who knows?" Holmes looked up at the sky, surveying the clouds.

"You're not very good at being forthright, are you?" Spencer demanded laughingly. He had not answered a single question with a solid response.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied playfully as they approached the threshold of the house. Spencer saw that Hanna's car was already in the driveway.

"Good, she's home," Spencer breathed, practically skipping up the front steps. "I need some Maid of Honor stuff out of her today."

"Think she's up for it?" Holmes asked seriously.

Spencer grinned, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. "Hanna is always up for planning a party." With that, she pulled the front door open.

CONTINUED