Thank you thank you thank you for your reviews, it was so nice to get them and to hear you're still enjoying this. I really hope you like this chapter.

1995

When she woke up the first thing she noticed was that there was light streaming in between the gap between the curtains- she was definitely running late for a 9am in the centre of town. She was tempted to keep lying there; the bed was so warm- warmer than usual. The thought of her tutor's face though, staunchly disapproving at the best of times had her rubbing her eyes and grumbling softly. She was probably going to have to get a move on. Hurriedly, she sat up, and it was then that she realised she was definitely not alone. Oh God, it was Joe. For a moment she was faintly bemused by his appearance, fully clothed in her bed. At some point that she didn't remember they must have pulled the covers up over themselves. And then, gradually, she remembered the night before and how got there. She smiled a little. And then she remembered telling him things that she ought not to have done, and her heart crashed to the floor. No more vodka, ever.

She looked over his shoulder at the clock at the other side of her bed. It was quarter past eight.

"Shit. Joe," she nudged him softly, at first, and then a bit harder when he did not respond, "Joe, wake up."

He stirred slowly. For a moment, she was caught by the sight of him, lying there in her bed. Watching him wake up, she was caught up in the sight of his body. She'd hardly noticed it until this point but recently he'd really grown into his own form, a stark contrast to the slip of a boy she'd met when they were both eighteen. It suited him. There was a slight growth of stubble on his cheek, as he began to raise his face groggily from the pillow. Then she reminded herself that she was pressed for time, and she ought not to get distracted. She took the liberty of shaking his shoulders, a little violently.

"What's u-… Phil?" he exclaimed, surprised, seeing who was shaking him awake, "Why are we-…?"

"We must have fallen asleep," she told him softly as he pushed himself into a sitting position, "After you brought me back home."

He seemed to be remembering.

"Oh god," he said, glancing at the clock at the bedside, "Your class. I've made you late!"

"I'll make it," she assured him gently, "It doesn't matter."

"Do you want me to give you a lift?" he asked her.

It was tempting, but she shook her head; "No, you stay here. Or rather, go and nap in your own room. You obviously need your rest," she told him with a little smile.

"I'm sorry I crashed out in your bed, Phil," he told her sincerely.

"That's alright," she replied, "Believe me, you've been by far the most inoffensive person I've had crashing there over the last few years."

He coloured a little, and she fought back a grin; he was so easy to wind up sometimes and it entertained her far too much. He got off the bed, and began forging around underneath it for his shoes.

"Joe, wait a minute," she told him softly, "I need to talk to you about something."

He looked at her very levelly.

"I feel like we talked about a lot last night," he reminded her, a slight edge to his voice.

"Exactly," she agreed, "That's what I need to ask you about."

He seemed to know exactly what she meant.

"I won't tell anyone," he said immediately, "I won't tell anyone what you told me. Not a soul."

She smiled.

"Thanks," she replied, "I really appreciate it. I've not told anyone other than you."

"You said," he reminded her.

"I'm sorry I told you," she said softly, "I realise it's not fair to burden you with all my business, and ask you to keep it to yourself."

"I don't mind," he replied, "It was me who asked you. I never would have done if I'd know that it could get you into trouble," he trailed off, "It does sound bloody exciting though!" he admitted a moment later, an impish grin on his face. His eyes settled carefully on her, looking at her very clearly, as if taking her in in a different light, and then said; "I should have guessed that you'd want to do something amazing."

She barely knew what to say to that and she did not think to interrogate his statement. She felt herself taken aback by the compliment, looking at the floor without knowing why, a little heat in her cheeks that had not been there a moment ago. There was a moment's silence as she processed what he'd said, and then, raising her head, smiling:

"I knew you'd be alright with a secret, Joe," she told him gently. Then after a moment's thought, "You should think about what I said. Seriously."

"Which part?" he asked her.

She fought back an eye-roll.

"About you making an application yourself," she replied, waiting a moment, trying to gage him reaction. His expression remained impassive, or perhaps confused, "I meant it, I do think you'd be good at it."

"God, Phil, I thought you only said that bit because you were pissed! I didn't know you meant it!"

"Maybe I was pissed," she replied calmly, "It doesn't mean I was wrong."

A little smile appeared on his lips. To her it looked like he was trying to gage whether or not she was joking.

"I will consider it," he said at last, "But only because I'm so used to places rejecting me by now. And because you flattered me so bloody much. I feel like I should do something to at least pretend to earn your faith in me. Even if you were pissed."

"Now you're being silly," she told him, smiling a little, "Of course I have faith in you."

She enjoyed the impression that he was giving that her praise of him could get under his skin, and she didn't know why. He was looking at her again, with that very level, careful, caring look she had come to know as his. She wanted to stay here, she realised, and not only because she didn't really want to go to class. If she did not leave now she never would.

"I should get going," she said softly, taking a step in his direction- he has standing near the desk- shuffling around to find the relevant papers.

"Oh, shit, your class!" he remembered, then, seeing how she was searching for her things, "Can I get anything for you?"

"I think my bag's under my bed-…"

"Yes, it is," he replied, ducking down swiftly to retrieve it, "I saw it when I found my shoes."

He straightened back up, standing next to her, proffering her back.

"What is it?" he asked when he was met with silence, and a definite smirk.

"You've got fantastic visual memory," she replied, still smirking as she took the backpack from his hand and dropping her notes inside, swinging it over her shoulder, "You would be very good."

"Shut up," he told her, grinning happily at her.

"We should make a pact to get outrageously drunk together after finals," she told him, returning his look.

"Alright," he replied, "Done."

They stood for a moment, facing one another. She bit her lip just gently.

"Thanks for last night," she told him softly, "I had a lovely night once I found you."

He smiled broadly.

"I'm glad," he replied quietly, "You're very welcome."

And she didn't know why at all, perhaps she was still half asleep, but then she took a step forwards and closed the space between them and kissed him on the cheek. She moved her head back a little and saw his face. He looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

"I'm sorry," she told him softly, "Should I not have done that?"

"No, it was fine," he replied, his voice a little different, "I liked it."

She should have smiled at him and then turned around and gone to her bloody class. But she stayed where she was, close to him, within arm's reach. Close enough for her to reach out and embrace him and press a gentle kiss to his mouth. She didn't know why she did it. Perhaps it was the gentleness, the softness of the night they had just spent together, perhaps it was the way he simply absorbed her secrets, as he seemed to do the rest of her. She did know that she liked it. It surprised her just how much she liked it. She was caught in between surprise and delight as she felt him kiss her back.

It was very nice indeed. In those moments she could hardly believe that they hadn't thought to do this before. They broke apart, breathless and messy.

"You need to go," he reminded her.

It was true, she did.

"You need to sleep," she replied.

He smiled at her.

"I'll probably see you tonight," he told her.

"Alright," she said softly, "I'd like that."

And then she turned and ran like hell down the stairs and to the bike sheds.

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