Guess who's back, back again? Charmedlion22's back, tell a friend.

WARNING: THIS FIC NOW HAS A "M" RATING. THIS CHAPTER ALSO GETS A LITTLE RACY, BUT IT'S NOT ESPECIALLY EXPLICIT. Just wanted you to know there was a change. Plus, Season 3's all body-gore and there's been a significant increase in cursing. And Veronica is violent in "The Spy" chapter. I know it's not crazy mature, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

Okay, so, it's been a long, long time. Sorry about that. Sometimes inspiration strikes, sometimes you get stuck on a story and let yourself get distracted by other ideas. My bad.

Now, I know I said last update we'd be seeing her Christmas and New Year's, but my brain seriously doesn't want me to write that, so we're moving on to after the holidays. The chapters leading up to Season Three will obviously be way more relaxed than the previous updates, but they'll also be expanding on things that happened in Season Three. The biggest one; how the hell did Max go from hating Billy to suddenly defending him when the boys and El suggested he was a monster? I mean, yes he's her step-brother, but it was such a weird shift from the previous season when she threatened his dick with Steve's bat and told him to stay away. Also, I found Bruce Springsteen's actual setlist from his 01/07/1985 Indianapolis show. Not that it actually matters. But still, I'm trying to be historically accurate here.

Anyway, this is the first "filler" chapter. Sorry it took so long to write. As always, I only own Veronica. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

The moment my alarm goes off, I feel like chucking it across my room. Last night had been the long-awaited concert, and my throat is dryer than the desert thanks to all the screaming. I make a staggered beeline to the bathroom and chug two-glasses worth of water before it stops feeling so hoarse, then practice speaking in the mirror until my voice comes back. Running into Dustin after taking care of business, he's nice enough to not say a word about my state, only giggling a little as I swipe under my eyes with a washcloth. With a grunt I shove him out of the way and re-enter my room, briefly closing the door as I change.

My mom knocks on my door as I'm tugging a pair of ripped jeans over black tights. "Come in!" I tuck in my new Bruce Springsteen tour shirt, arms slipping through a cardigan. "Morning." I yawn.

My mother covers her mouth as she laughs. "I'm sorry! Your eyes - you look like a raccoon!" She gets out, waving off my look. I roll my green orbs.

"I know, I'll fix it. I didn't make too much noise when I got back, right? I didn't want to wake you."

"Oh, no dumpling. You were fine. Are you hungry? I made breakfast."

I shake my head. "No, I'm fine. Jonathan and I had an early-morning snack after the concert. I'm still full." I pat my slight pot-belly, stomach still digesting the waffles and bacon I chowed down four hours earlier.

Mom snorts and comes over to kiss my cheek. "Okay. I'll let you know when Steve's here."

"Thanks - oh, it's okay, you can keep the door open. Wait, mom -" She stops at the door.

"Yeah, Veronica?"

"Nance and I are going to have a sleepover tonight at hers, if that's okay with you? We're studying for an English test." I lie through my teeth.

My mom just laughs, and I deflate. "Sure. Be careful, I'm too young to be a grandma." Then she walks out giggling, leaving me to stare after her in wonder.

Well, she is always telling me about her "Wild Teen Years".

Crossing over to my vanity, I start to deal with my halo of curls, eventually settling on tugging half my hair up into a whale spout. Double-checking I remembered to put on deodorant, I spray some of my gardenia perfume on as well - a Christmas gift from Steve. Both get packed in my bag, along with a change of clothes. Then I get to work dealing with my sleep-puffy face. The worst of it's my black under-eyes thanks to my very lackluster attempt at washing my face this morning.

I smile at the polaroids taped around my mirror, a collection of memories from the past three weeks.

The oldest are the pictures I took of El before the Snow Ball. There are a bunch from the days leading up to Christmas Eve, most of them of the Party and older kids helping Steve decorate his house for Christmas. The largest collection of photos was taken Christmas Eve, when we celebrated an "Early Christmas" at Steve's. Our parents were all attending the Christmas party at the Wheelers and Hop at work, we decided to have our own party, approved only because Jonathan, Nancy, Steve and I promised to chaperone. I'd personally talked to Susan Hargrove - Max's mom - who was kind but exactly what Billy described her as; quiet and gentle.

It was a fun night, and Steve had told me after that of all the parties he'd ever thrown, it was his favorite. Between Jonathan and I, we'd have enough pictures to never forget that night. My favorites include; Max laying in a pile of wrapping paper, Dustin and Will sharing a new D&D handbook, Nancy and Jonathan curled up on the Byers couch, Steve laughing at Mike while Lucas sprays whipped cream at the younger Wheeler, El playing with a new radio, and Steve and I kissing under the mistletoe. It was a great night, full of snowball fights, a seemingly never-ending D&D campaign, and Max and El starting to bond. Sort of. The latter stopped glaring at the redhead, at least, which counts as progress.

The next day was reserved for our families, of course. Everyone was with their parents and siblings, chowing down on food and sweets, and guzzling eggnog like it was suddenly going to disappear. Well, I assume that's what they were doing. That's what we did at Casa Henderson. Of course, we did have a guest.

Steve's parents had called the twenty-second, announcing they'd be extending their trip to Italy. A frustrated Steve had then driven all the way here to complain, until I reminded him he had another family to celebrate with - mine. It took a little convincing, but after many, many kisses he relented. Mom was happy to have him, anyway, happy my little brother has a male role-model who isn't a fictional character.

So there's photos of Christmas, too. So many, a lot of them blurry or too bright. My favorite is hidden in my desk drawer, away from prying eyes who'd uncover a deep, dark secret. It's of Dustin and Steve cradling six cans each of Farrah Fawcett Hairspray. Unfortunately for the hair-duo, it'd been discontinued. I could only find twelve, and Steve definitely didn't enjoy my crack about having to use Aquanet when he runs out, but it was more than enough to have my brother sing my praises and my boyfriend kiss the living daylights out of me.

Then there are the pictures leading up to New Year's. Nancy laughing as she sips a chocolate milkshake, Jonathan rocking out to a playlist in his room, Nancy and I curled up together crying over Valley Girl - Steve took that one, Jonathan was too busy laughing as we sobbed.

"Ice Queen my ass!" He managed to gasp out, right before I threw a pillow in his face.

Then there was New Year's Eve at Steve's, right before we left to go to the base of the quarry. Half the school was there to ring in the New Year and watch the fireworks, small bonfires set up all around the lake. There's one of Steve, poorly lit by the blazing fire but smiling brightly at me with a sparkler held up.

The pictures from New Year's Day aren't on my wall. Some are in a little box in my underwear drawer, some are at Steve's, tucked away in his bedside table. Small photos of exposed, mole-dotted backs, skin shining gold in the morning light, blonde hair cascading over a bare chest, a girl with big green eyes laughing up at her photographer, a boy with hazel eyes smiling gently at his lover after they'd broken in his new queen-sized bed.

The latest were from last night's concert, all put up as soon as I got back home. A handful were taken courtesy of my mom before Jonathan and I left for Indianapolis, and the rest were taken by me on the drive over. Seeing Bruce Springsteen live was probably the greatest experience of my life so far. Not that it actually matters, but I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be able to ever top Jonathan's present. I'll never forget sitting on Jonathan's shoulders, waving my lighter in the air with the rest of the crowd as Springsteen belted Born In The U.S.A.

The doorbell rings and I yelp, hurrying to put on the rest of my makeup. "Veronica, Steve's here!" My mom yells from the kitchen.

"Okay! I'll be right there!"

"Too late, incoming." I shriek as Steve runs into my room and tugs me into his arms, spinning me as I laugh. "How was it?"

"So fucking fun! He did Dancing in the Dark, Glory Days, and Johnny 99! I swear I almost fainted!"

"Wow, should I be jealous?" Steve pouts, and I slap his arm.

"Oh, shut up. Now if we're talking about Slash, you're screwed." I joke back, and Steve presses our lips together as he sets me back down on the ground.

"I'm glad you had fun. Come on, you ready yet? Dustin's about ready to burst out of the house and I'm sure you're mom's not up for replacing the front door."

"Huh?" I blink, clearing my throat as I blush.

Steve's distracting, alright? Leave me alone.

My boyfriend snorts and kisses the scar on my temple. "Dork."

"Fuck you." It's not as biting as I want it to be.

Steve waits for me to finish putting on my mascara, getting a few laughs out of me as he makes faces in the mirror. Tousling my blonde curls I fix the gardenia necklace and adjust my ring. "For my next birthday, I want diamond earrings." I demand, tone light and playful as I put in my plain studs. Steve kisses the back of my head after I lace up my combat boots, and grabs my bag to lead me into the hall.

"Well, there goes the surprise, Roni."

"There you two are. Dustin, put Tews down and grab your lunch!" My mom orders, handing me my own paper bag as well as a couple of dollars. I pocket it before Dustin can notice, poor Tews leaping from his arms and rushing towards me. I coo and kneel, scratching under the kitten's chin before kissing her little pink nose. I miss the hissing contests with Mews, but it's been nice having a cat who loves me enough to cuddle up with me at night.

"Alright, I'm here. Jesus, Huntress, you take forever to get ready!" Dustin gripes, his sass having skyrocketed since he became my boyfriend's protégé. Steve smacks him up the back of the head, messing up his dirty-ass hat.

"You're so funny, D, did that sense of humor come with the Farrah Fawcett Spray?" I tease, laughing as I scoot back on my butt to escape his shoves.

"Dustin!" My mom scolds, and he sputters indignantly.

"Bye, mama. Love you." I stand and kiss her cheek, smiling when she does the same.

"I love you, too. And don't forget your gloves, it's cold enough to freeze hell out there!" I laugh as her voice follows me to the coat rack as I shrug on my violet parka and grey bobble hat. Dustin and Steve say goodbye to mom as well, and soon enough the three of us are stepping out of the house, blowing on our glove-covered hands to keep them warm.

"Shit!" My brother shouts, storming over to the Beemer. Steve chuckles and wraps his arm around my shoulders to lead us after the middle schooler.

"Hey, I know my taste in music is -"

"Yes, I'll go to a concert with you." I beat Steve to the punch, smiling up at him. "Even if it's a gross, bubbly band playing."

Steve rolls his eyes but smiles, and kisses my cold cheek as he opens the passenger door. "Thank you. I know, it's such a big sacrifice."

"My reputation's on the line, Steven."

He laughs at my haughty tone. "I hate to tell you this Ronniekins, but that reputation of yours has thawed in recent months."

I gasp, mock offended. "You take that back!"

"For God's sake, it's cold! Get in the car!" My brother complains, and I lean down to talk through the open door. He's shivering in the backseat, already buckled.

"The adults are talking, D."

"No, you dumbasses are flirting. We're gonna be late."

I glare at Steve, nodding to Dustin. My boyfriend shrugs. "He's your brother."

"He's your friend." I shoot back, then roll my eyes as I climb into the car. Steve closes the door after me, and moments later he's behind the wheel, turning on the engine and heater to warm us up. The radio's softly playing Cyndi Lauper. I smile at Steve - maybe his taste in music doesn't completely suck.

Dustin's chattering away as we drive to the schools, barely waiting for Steve to respond before he starts asking more questions about girls. "But, like, how did you know Leia was who you wanted? Like, when did that happen?" He asks, and I smile cheekily at my boyfriend. "How will I know?"

"Yeah, baby. Answer D."

Steve snorts at my look before taking my hand and kissing my knuckles. "When I saw how happy she could be. You've got the best smile, Roni, and the best laugh. I've been hooked ever since."

I blush and roll my eyes, trying to move my hand from his. "Smooth talker."

"It's the truth!" He argues, laughing at my bashfulness. "The thing is, Dustin, you're gonna notice something different about whatever girl you like. There's no one answer to what makes you know what you want, until you see it."

"That makes no sense."

I laugh at Dustin's mumbling, and Steve rolls his eyes. "It will. Have a little faith in me, alright?"

"Sure, Steve."

We pull into the massive lot, Steve driving towards the middle school first. We spot the rest of the Party as soon as we arrive, three boys and one girl huddled together as they face the cold. I roll down the window. "Morning, kiddos!"

"Mom!"

"Hey, Veronica." The boys and Max come over to the car.

"And Steve." Mike grumbles, getting a scoff from my boyfriend. I roll my eyes and slap at the younger Wheeler.

"Come on, he has his good moments. Have a good day, alright?" Dustin climbs out of the car and leans down when I gesture to him. "No picking fights with your math teacher again, okay?"

"Fine."

"Max, watch him." I tell the redhead, who smiles cheekily and salutes me, laughing as my brother loudly complains their whole journey to the school.

I roll up the window as Steve drives us to his usual spot, and I roll my eyes when I catch Billy nearly eating Vicki's face. "I can't believe you dated him." Steve nods their way as he parks and I slap him up the back of the head. He fusses with his hair and glares.

"Honey, you're gonna have to learn to let that go." I trail my fingers up his arm, tapping against his lips. "I love you. I've loved you for so long. Besides, you proved on New Years which guy's the best I ever had."

We waited on sleeping together, wanting it to be more special, even though neither one of us is a blushing virgin. We didn't even have a specific date in mind, just knew we'd get there eventually. Sex wasn't our reason for getting together, after all. Just a really, really great bonus. A big one, on Steve's part.

He's King for a reason.

Anyway, moments after our New Year's kiss we knew it was the right time. Sex with Steve's - it's like the first time we kissed, we're just good at it. We fit. I don't know what the future holds. But I've seen enough these past few years to at least firmly believe that right now, we're meant to be.

Steve smiles, all wide and proud. "I did, huh?"

"Yes, baby. And you keep on proving it every damn day." I lean forward to kiss him and he smiles, cradling my chin.

"I love you."

"And I love you. I love you more than Bruce Springsteen and Slash."

He laughs and rubs our noses together. "Damn, that's hot."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

We don't leave the car for another five minutes, and the kiss warmed me enough that I barely feel the chill as we walk to the school, Steve holding our bags with one hand while his free arm is wrapped around my waist. "You're smiling more." He says as we enter the school. Sure enough I'm waving to some passing classmates, face no longer frozen with complete indifference. "It's nice, seeing you smile at other people."

"I'm starting to feel like me, I guess. Plus there's no interdimensional monster trying to get me under his control anymore. That's bound to lighten a girl up." I joke, and Steve frowns. "Hey, it's okay. I'm doing better."

"Remember Saturday?"

I nod. "I know. I've had worse nightmares, though. Besides, I thought you liked my smile." I turn as we reach my locker, wrapping my arms around his waist while he sets out bags on the ground, ignoring the people around us.

"I love it. Let me worry about you, alright?"

"It's just such a hardship having a loving boyfriend."

Steve snorts and presses me against my cold locker, mouth devouring mine. "You're the worst, Ronniekins."

"No, I'm amazing." I peak over Steve's shoulder to grin at an approaching Nancy and Jonathan, coming from the latter's locker. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the second best couple at Hawkins High. You look tired, Johnny. Late night?" I tease.

He rolls his eyes and Steve moves so I can hug the newcomers. "Only with the loudest girl I know. Dude, my shoulders are sore."

Nancy snorts, then pecks her boyfriend's cheek. "I'll massage them later."

"Gross."

"Ew." Steve and I wrinkle our noses, and Jonathan points at me.

"Don't you start. I learned way more about Steve than I ever wanted to last night."

"Whatever. You asked."

"I just wanted to know if he'd been treating you well! As a joke. But no, you had to tell me just how good of a job he's been doing taking care of you." Jonathan looks at my boyfriend, brown eyes pleading. "I beg of you to make her stop sharing that kind of information."

Steve smirks. "I can't help how impressive I am."

Obnoxious hooting and hollering fills the halls, and we all turn to watch Billy leading Tommy, Carol, Nicole, Vicki, Tina, and half the basketball team through the front doors. Billy has an arm thrown over Nicole's shoulders, and his other is wrapped around Vicki's waist, the two girls shooting each other glares as they vie for his attention. The halls part, but not in the way they ever have for me. The younger students flutter away in fear, a few girls lingering as they try to get a good look at Billy.

"Morning Veronica."

"Hey, Ice Queen!" Carol and Tommy wave to me as they pass, Tommy nodding at Steve as well, the two no longer at each other's throats.

"Hey guys." I wave back as they stop momentarily.

"How was the concert? Bruce Springsteen, right?"

Before I can answer, Billy scoffs, forgetting the promise he made to me. "Like Harrington even knows Springsteen."

I ignore Billy and smile at Carol politely. "Yeah. It was a blast. Jonathan totally wins the award for best friend."

Tommy hums and assesses Jonathan, not looking at Nancy as she glares at him. "Good taste, man."

"Uh. Thanks, Tommy." My best friend sends him an awkward nod.

"Yo, Tommy!" Drew calls from further down the hall. Steve's former friend leaves us with another small smile, Carol wiggling her fingers at me. Billy lingers, though, until Matt claps him on the shoulder and points to where Nicole and Vicki are arguing, the two girls shoving each other as they lean against Hargrove's locker.

"What a piece of work." Nancy glowers after my ex.

I snort. "Whatever. They can have him."

"Damn straight." I hip check Steve and open my locker to deal with my books and homework. Tucking my parka in haphazardly, I fix my Springsteen tee and roll up the sleeves of my cardigan.
"You did do your homework before you went to the concert, right?" Nancy asks me, frowning with a raised eyebrow as we both rummage through our lockers.

"Yeah, sis. Don't worry, Jonathan said we couldn't go if I didn't do it." I poke my tongue out Jonathan, who holds up his hand.

"Hey, I just didn't want you failing anything."

"But it was a birthday gift." I pout, and he rolls his eyes. The warning bell rings as Nance and I close our lockers, books and pens in arms. "I'll see you at lunch, yeah?"

"Like we'd sit anywhere else." Nancy kicks at me and I laugh, kicking back. "Steve, for all of our sake's, please try to be on time for class."

Steve huffs. "You're awful. Really. Stop nagging me."

"I'm pretty sure Ver's way worse." Nancy replies, hugging him before Jonathan claps him on the back.

Steve frowns at him. "Dude, why is it only me?"

Jonathan snorts. "You think they don't nag me? Really?"

"Whatever, ass." Steve shoves at him, laughing as Jonathan flips him off and tugs Nancy to class.

"I'll walk you to English, baby." I promise, taking his hand.
Steve squeezes our joined limbs and kisses my jaw. "You sure you don't just wanna skip first?"

I laugh and shake my head. "Not today, baby."

"But I missed you last night." He pouts and I hum, smiling wide.

"Well, what if I told you that you have me all to yourself after school?" I ask, beginning to lead us down the hall.

"Wait, really?" He asks, a beam growing on his face.

"Mhm." I bite my lip, stopping briefly so I can lean up to kiss him. "Tonight and tomorrow morning."

"What'd you tell your mom?"

I snort and shrug as we start walking again. "That Nancy and I are having a sleepover. She just laughed and told me, 'Be careful. I'm too young to be a grandma' before walking away."

Steve pales. "No wonder she asked if I was running out of anything at home. I thought she was talking about food!"

I laugh. "Well, I am good enough to eat - oh my God, Steven!" I shout, my boyfriend lifting me up and running down the halls with me practically slung over his shoulder. I briefly catch Billy watching me, but a pinch on my ribs distracts me from saying anything.

"Babe, I'm telling you, this makes no sense. At all." Steve grumbles.

I shift on his bed, staring at him as he glares at the homework on his desk. "Why don't you take a break? I just finished my reading, anyway." He glares at his work harder and I sigh, getting up and shoving my own homework onto his bedside table. Crossing over to my boyfriend I wrap my arms around his neck, leaning over to kiss at his cheek. "Come on, baby. Break time."

"I have to finish this." He snaps, angrily flipping a page of his math textbook. I place a hand on his and link our fingers together.

"I know, Steve." Sighing, I kiss his cheek again. "But you'll only stress yourself out. It's okay to take a break -"

"I've been taking breaks my whole life!" He explodes, wriggling out of my arms. I back off, watching him. "My whole damn life! I can't afford to be lazy anymore, Veronica! I have to... I need to..."

"Steven." I interrupt gently, and he closes his eyes. "Taking a break's important. You've been doing your homework nonstop for three hours, okay? You're not being lazy. I promise."

"I -"

"Look, I get you're stressed." I come closer again and kneel in front of his chair, hands on his thighs as I tap on them patiently, like I'm playing the piano. "Just, like, fifteen minutes, okay?"

"Roni -"

"I need my Teddy Bear." I purr, and Steve snorts, opening his eyes. I laugh and stand up, only a few inches taller than him in this position. Arms around his neck again, I climb onto his lap. Steve wraps an arm under my thighs to hold me up, the other cupping my chin. "Seriously, Steve. We both could use a break. And some food. Your stomach's been growling for thirty minutes. Please, baby?"

He sighs and nods, eyes following me as I stand and take his hands in mine to tug him up. "Sorry I snapped."

I shake my head. "Hey, I'm not mad. Okay? Just worried. I know you're stressed, and when you get stressed you stop taking care of yourself. It's my job as your girlfriend to make sure that doesn't happen."

He smirks and nods, kissing my forehead before we head down to the kitchen. "You're the best, you know that?"

"Mhm. I have you to remind me of that." I cheekily sass back, and he slaps my ass. "Later, baby."

"Jesus." He mutters, laughing as I skip away to the fridge, riffling through it. "Hey, no, you cooked Saturday. It's my turn." He grabs at my hips and gently tugs me out of the way. "Mac and cheese?"

"And veggies, Steve." I remind him, setting myself on the countertop.

He groans and pouts at me. "But Roni -"

"Salad, Steve. Make a salad." I order, and he huffs as he pulls out some lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers from the produce drawer, snagging milk and butter as well. I twist on the counter to open up a cabinet and pick out a package of Kraft. I watch Steve as he cuts the vegetables for a quick salad, water boiling on the stove. "Baby?"

"Yeah, gorgeous?"

"I love you."

He smiles as he wipes his hands on a towel, flipping it over his shoulder before coming towards me. "I love you, too."

"I know." He snorts and bites the tip of my nose lightly. I yelp and hit at him, and he kisses me quiet. "I'm proud of you."

"For what?" Steve whispers, nuzzling into my shoulder.

"You've been working really hard, ever since the school year started. And you've kept it up."

"Oh. Thanks."

"The water's boiling." I whisper, and he kisses my neck. "Steve?"

"Let it. For a few more minutes."

"Okay."

We stay like that for as long as Steve wants, until finally both our stomachs rumble. Steve reluctantly finishes making our dinner, and I watch him with my chin in the palms of my hand, a smile on my face the whole time.

Dinner is spent with our ankles hooked together, talking about everything and nothing all at once - how boring physics is, how long basketball practice felt, something funny we'd seen or done. Occasionally we'll lapse into a comfortable silence, just enjoying the food and each other's company. And yeah, Kraft is basically just a bunch of chemicals, but Steve makes it better than I ever can. I like to say it's because he puts a little love in it, he just tells me it's the butter.

As I'd finished my homework before him, I do my best to help with the math. I'm not in advanced algebra, but I sweet talked a classmate of Steve's into letting me copy their notes during lunch. Steve stopped trying to talk me out of it after he got his first B on a test. "And just like that, I'm done with this shit." He huffs and slams his notebook closed, moving to set all of his homework back on his desk. "Hopefully most of it's right."

"I'm sure it is, baby." I get on my knees, mattress indenting beneath me. "Movie time?"

Steve turns and stalks towards me, arms wrapping around my waist to tug me to the edge of the bed, body falling against his chest.

"I had something else in mind."

"Oh yeah? What?" I ask.

"Mmm. Scrabble."

I pout as he leaves me, turning to walk out the room, mouth open in shock. "That better be a fucking joke, you -" In what feels like a flash his back in front of me, lifting me up so my legs around his hips.

"Please. Like I'd ever willingly play scrabble."

I laugh as he carries me out of the room, clinging to my boyfriend like a koala. "Where are you taking me?"

"Bubble bath, babe. I want a bubble bath." He says, one hand pulling at my cardigan. I help him take it off, letting the thick material fall to the ground. "Nice and warm." I hum as he tugs on the bottom of my new shirt. It's the next thing to float down, and I shiver as he traces around my bra, opening the bathroom door with his other hand.

"Sounds perfect." I gasp as he bites my jugular, sucking. "Steve."

"Roni." He mumbles around my skin, sucking another bruise next to my latest hickey. "Fuck, Roni."

"Mmm." The moan ripples out of my chest, one bra strap being tugged down as Steve nibbles down to bite just above my chest. "St-Steve. Ba-bath."

"Yeah." A little breathless, he sets me down to get to work. His back turned to me, I finish taking off the rest of my clothes, completely naked. He stands when the water's set to the right temperature and I take his hand, twisting him to face me. His hands take my hips as I unbutton his jeans, and as soon he's undressed and the water's risen enough we get into the large tub, my back against his chest as he holds me close.

"Will you tell me what really has you stressed?" I ask, breaking the silence. I tilt my head onto his shoulder to look up at him. He just stares at the wall across from us. "I know it isn't just homework, baby. You've been tense since Saturday night."

He sighs and bows his head, his nose on my shoulder. "My parents are coming back this weekend. For a while, they said. At least until after my birthday." He groans and removes his head to rest it against the wall behind us, his hands stroking up and down my arms. "Dad found out I didn't apply to Dartmouth. He's not… it wasn't good, babe."

"I'm sorry, Steve." I whisper, reaching a hand up and back to stroke his cheekbone. "I'm so sorry."

Steve shudders. "I hate him so much, Roni. I don't even know how to feel about mom anymore - God, I haven't seen them since your birthday. We're strangers to each other, have been for years. I used to want them around all the time. But now? Life's easier when I don't have to think about my mom drinking away my dad's latest affair and fucking John Harrington balancing yelling at me for shit and screwing his newest secretary." I nod along, letting him vent. "Every time I think about how nice it'll be to get the hell out of here, I always remember I'd be leaving you, and -"

"Steven." I cut in, shaking my head. "No. You're getting out of here, alright?"

"You want me to just take off, leave you behind after we just got our shit together?" He bites out, incredulous. I move away from his chest and turn to look at him. "You'd be okay with that? Really?"

"Steve -"

"Just leave you behind?" He shakes his head and scoffs, refusing to look at me.

I sigh and slide back to him, legs crossing as I reach out to cup his square jaw. "Of course I wouldn't be okay with that. I'd miss you like crazy, baby. But if you think I won't be driving to you every weekend for a visit, you're a moron. I just don't want you staying here if it means your dad's going to have his grip on you. I want you far away from that bastard." I huff and tug his head down so our lips touch. "Dumbass."

We don't do much talking after that. Well, okay, there's some talking - muffled moans, a few screamed names, some laughter as we fumble out of the bathroom and rush back to his bed - but the conversation is on hold, something to approach later. Much, much later.

I lay on Steve's bare chest, fingers running through the fast-growing hair covering it. His hands trail up and down my equally-naked back, mapping out my skin. My drying hair's been braided back, and Steve tugs on the end of it. "It's getting too long." I mumble, kissing his left pec, right above his heart.

"What is?" He mumbles tiredly, and I look up. His eyes are barely open, the room lit only by the moon and the lamp beside him.

"My hair. Don't you think? I can barely concentrate unless it's up." I complain.

Steve hums. "I can't remember the last time it was short."

"I had that awful bob in elementary school. How could you forget that disaster?"

"Hmm? I thought it was cute."

I grin. "Yeah? So if I got it again -"

"I'd think you'd look as gorgeous as always." His fingers trace up my back again. "Just don't do anything crazy."

"So no mohawk? Or mullet?"

"I'd dump you." He yelps when I smack at him. "Okay, I'd just make you wear a hat until it grew back. And I'd be sad, babe. So sad. Inconsolable. Despondent. Miserable. Profoundly upset."

I smile into the hair on his chest. "Those are a lot of SAT words, baby."

"Mhm. What'd you say if I told you I know what each one means?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say anything." The bed creaks under us a little as I shift to straddle his stomach, hands on either side of his face so I can hold myself up.

Steve smiles at my cheek and moves down on his pillow, one hand under my right thigh and the other on my face so his fingers can trace my lips, nose, the scar on my temple. "Really? That's all it takes to impress you, knowing vocabulary?"

I shake my head and lean down, right hand leaving his pillow so I can rake my fingers through his thick dark hair. "No. Barring acting like a dick or doing something incredibly stupid, nearly everything about you impresses me."

"You say the sweetest things, Roni." He whispers.

"I mean it, handsome. I think you're goddamn amazing, and I'm sorry your parents can't see that. But I do, and the whole time they're here I'll make it my personal mission to remind you of that. Okay? Cross my heart, baby." Steve nods and sighs, thumbing under my left eye. "And when they really get to you, you know you're always welcome at my place. My mom will understand."

"I don't want to take advantage of -"

"You won't be." I interrupt. "My mom loves you, and not just because of how much you love me. You've been so good for Dustin, Steve. I haven't seen him this confident ever. You're family."

He breathes shakily and nods. "Okay. I'll probably take you up on that."

"Good." I clear my throat and look down at his chest. "I need to ask you something."

"Okay?"

"Recently, I've been… I mean… I want to call him. My dad."

"Oh." He hums. "Why?"

Shrugging, I clear my throat. "Well, it's been over a year."

"Do you think you're ready?"

"I think I've been ready since Christmas." I admit, finally lowering my upper body so I'm resting on his front.

"Hmm." Steve's chest rises as he breathes, both hands on either one of my bent knees. He taps the skin, deep in thought. "Why now?"

"I just want to be able to move on, you know. From everything. Even when I'd visit him and Allison, I never felt like I got closure for what happened. I want to hear what he has to say, now that I'm old enough to understand."

"Have you talked to your mom and Dustin about this?"

"Kind of. Just that I was considering it. D's not interested - he and my dad were never that close, not like I was to him. Mom got her closure a few years ago, and they talk occasionally. I was his little girl, though, Steve, and what he did broke up."

"I know."

"So, should I call him?"

"Babe, I can't tell you what to do. Not like Jonathan'll be able to, he knows your dad way better than I do. All I can do is be there for you when you decide, alright? And if you want me next to you when you make that call -"

"I will." I nod and sit up again, shivering when the cold air hits my skin. "And Jonathan, and Nancy. All three of you."

"Okay. Okay, princess." He sits up as well, back against his headboard as he scoots me closer. "I'm yours, I promise. Always."

"I'm not sure that's a promise you can keep." I admit, whispering it as I look away from his eyes. His right hand cups my chin and tilts it back up to meet his gaze.

Hazel eyes shining, he sends me a smile."Watch me, babe."

3rd Person POV (Steve's)...

Saturday, January 12th

Steve stands outside his dad's office, watching the elder Harrington move around to assess whether or not it'd been disturbed in his absence. John Harrington turns around, shoulders less tense than they'd been the moment he and his wife had come back home. "I see you stayed out of here."

"I always do, dad." Steve tells him, doing his best not to snap.

"What about the liquor cabinet? Have you stayed out of that? Or the wine cellar?" John barks, arms crossed.

Steve shook his head. "No, sir. I'm eighteen, I can get my own."

"With my money. That makes it part of my collection." His dad argues, storming past his son. "It doesn't matter, I suppose. Your mother's the drinker, anyway."

I wonder why, Steve almost bites out. I'd be an alcoholic too if I was married to you. "Yes, sir."

"Have you heard from any colleges yet?"

"I won't know until March. I told you Saturday night." Steve keeps his tone level, attempting to sound as icy as his girlfriend can.

His dad just harrumphs and returns to the living room to pour himself a glass of Scotch. It's only noon. Not that Steve's really judging him - he could use a drink right about now, too. "And the scouts?"

"This Wednesday, the sixteenth. It'll be our fifth game."

"Hmm. What time."

"Usual. 7:30."

"Will your girlfriend be there? Sally?"

"Nancy?" His dad shrugs. "No, we broke up early November. I'm dating someone else now."

"Really?" John looks at him with feigned interest. "Anyone I'd know?"

"Veronica. Henderson."

"Henderson? Robert's girl?" John actually starts to look a little interested. "He's got a good business going for him. I've sent plenty of clients his way - honorable man."

Steve holds back his laugh - Roni'd have plenty say against that. "Yeah."

"Well, tell me about her."

Steve assesses his dad, then follows him to sit on a cushioned chair, his dad lounging on the couch. "She's a junior. Gets good grades. She does archery, and is planning on competing next year." John raises an eyebrow. "She's amazing at it." And slitting throats, Steve barely stops himself from mentioning, remembering what she'd done to the demodogs.

"Hmm. What are her plans after school? I know that Weedling girl at least had ambition." Wheeler, dad, Jesus.

"Um, she wants to see how far she can get with competitions, first. Her trainer thinks she's Olympics-worthy." Steve tells him. His father looks suitably unimpressed. "She's looking into Harvard, Princeton, and Yale. She's studying for her SATS now, that way she can come up with a plan depending on her grades."

His dad looks interested again, staring at his son with a slight smirk. "Is she cute?"

"She's gorgeous, dad." He narrows his eyes.

"Doesn't look like Claudia, does she? That woman was always plumper than the rest. You know, I told Robert in school he could do much better. Guess he eventually took my advice to heart."

Steve blinks, his blood beginning to boil with rage. Fuck his dad. Seriously, screw him. Claudia was a kind, beautiful woman who actually gives a shit about her kids. Robert Henderson is an asshole, and if Steve ever finds out his dad played some role in the affair he's going to literally explode.

"No." Steve finally says. "She doesn't look like her mom."

"Hmm." His dad shifts on the couch. "You should invite her over for dinner some time this week. I'm sure your mother would like to meet her." The indifference makes Steve cringe, and he nods. "Well, I've got a business call in a few minutes. I'll see you later, son." He watches his dad walk away, then bolts over to the front door to slip on his coat, shoes, and crab his keys. Minutes later Steve's roaring out of the driveway, heading to his girlfriend's.

He finds her on the porch, holding an ice pack to Billy Hargrove's face.