PrinceC and an Excess of Chech'Tluth

by 1angelette

I woke up on the floor outside of the bathroom with a throbbing head. Looking around, I saw three empty flasks of Chech'tluth, some blonde hair extensions, and, inside the bathroom on the USS Enterprise shaped rug, a digital camera. After a few seconds of thought, I solemnly swore, "I, James Tiberius Hamill, swear never to let Aunt Judy's friend Nancy influence me ever again."

I picked up the camera and browsed the recently taken pictures. I didn't seem to have done much except dance with an obfuscating lampshade on my head, although I saw Mother in positions with manacles I really rather wouldn't have. I almost felt like I could sleep easily until I reached the last picture. It was mortifying. I was standing in the bathtub, which would have been innocuous enough except for the fact that I was naked and a red leather boot was nearby on the floor.

I went downstairs in quite a state. "Nancy," I said, as I entered the living room where the woman sat on the couch with Aunt Judy, "What are these photos all about?"

"Oh, that." Nancy laughed. "Judy and I decided to play with you a little. Wasn't it funny? Have a glass of Chech'tluth."

My head throbbed, and I accepted it gratefully. As I drank, an idea came to me. I had been wondering what picture to send to Mina next; college applications, the dratted things, had put a damper on my con attendance lately. Why not send her that picture?

Grinning unsteadily, I poured myself another glass of Chech'tluth. "So," I asked Nancy, "those pictures of my mother were staged, too?"

"Oh, no, those were genuine. And a great deal of fun." She smirked like a cat who had eaten a canary and went back to painting Aunt Judy's toenails.

Mina de Malfois and the Present Crisis

by JackieJLH

I'd been holiday shopping for hours and was thoroughly exhausted--Amazon can take a lot of out of a girl when she doesn't know what she's shopping for, I was finding. And it didn't help that I was in a bit of a rush. Christmas had snuck up on me so quickly this year; it felt like one moment we were just coming back from mid-term break and summer was around the corner, and the next day everyone was packing to go home for the holidays.

I sighed, staring at the screen for a few more seconds in utter frustration before abandoning the computer and flopping down on my bed. The ceiling didn't hold any answers either, but I'd been clicking my way through all manner of ridiculous things for what seemed like days, and it was maddening. One person shouldn't be so hard to buy for; it just didn't seem fair.

Everyone else had been easy. Fandom acquaintances were once again getting fandom-related things (anyone who was anyone had paid accounts on Sanguinity Online by now, so that option had failed me, but there were still game points to be given and old fall-backs like extra LiveJournal userpics), my family was receiving cards, and most of my not-just-online friends had either been dropping hints for weeks or made their interests so well known that it was simple to pick out something they'd like. The only person that I couldn't seem to find a present for was Arc.

I couldn't just get Arc any random gift, you see. And I'd never given her a Christmas present before, so I had no frame of reference for this sort of thing. It would have been easier if our relationship were still simply that of author-and-archivist, but the fact of the matter was that I considered Arc a dear friend, and I felt it was important that any present I give her reflect the depth of that feeling.

The familiar sound of my instant messenger alerting me to a new message chimed quietly from across the room, and I only let myself wallow in despair for a few more seconds before dragging myself back to the desk. I was hoping PrinceC was responding to my earlier message; I'd been waiting all day for him to show up so that I could tap into his RL-Arc knowledge. Instead, Warr1ors's name appeared on the screen.

"Hello, Mina. Are you going home for the holidays?" he asked.

"Not this year." Even though I hadn't been to my mother's for Christmas the last two years in a row, I just didn't feel up to a visit with her or my sisters this year either. "I'm just finishing up some of my shopping," I added, hoping to nudge him toward the point of this conversation in a hurry. My inability to find the perfect present for Arc, or even a remotely suitable one, had left me with little patience for anyone, to be honest.

He completely ignored my hint. "Do you have plans on Christmas Eve?"

Deciding it probably didn't matter much what he thought at this point, I shrugged and typed, "No, I'll just be catching up on some reading."

"PrinceC's parents have decided to take a trip to Europe over Christmas this year, and he wasn't able to get away long enough to go with them," he said suddenly, and I frowned, wondering how we'd made the leap in subjects so abruptly. Then he continued, "I'll be spending most of the week at his condo--no one should spend the holidays alone...You should come with me. He's having some friends from fandom over on Christmas Eve for a party."

I wasn't sure whether to be annoyed that this seemed to be a pity-invite, disappointed that PrinceC hadn't invited me himself, worried that I would be sucked into Trekkie Christmas traditions if I agreed to go, or thankful that I could at least spend part of the holiday somewhere besides my dorm room. I settled for thankful because, after all, Christmas is supposed to be a time of happiness and joy or something, right?

"Can I get back to you on that?" I asked. It wouldn't do to seem too eager.

"Of course," he agreed amicably.

"Warr1or..." I hesitated, already regretting giving in to the sudden impulse to broach the subject with him. "What do you think Archivist12 would like for Christmas?"

He seemed to consider this for a moment, then answered quite sensibly, "Something practical. She doesn't seem like the sort that would appreciate frivolous things."

He did have a point. "You're probably right," I said, and signed off.

~

The following morning found me wandering the mall and hating every moment of it. Not that I have anything against malls, mind you. But frantic last-minute shoppers had descended in swarms and were angrily shoving their way through aisle after aisle of red and green crap looking for something that they'd actually consider giving a loved one for Christmas, and that was quite a bit past the point of un-fun. Most of the good stuff had disappeared from the shelves days ago, apparently, and I couldn't help but feel that I was wasting my time.

I was window-shopping outside yet another department store when I heard a cheery voice behind me exclaim, "Mina!" I reluctantly turned around to find myself face-to-face with Mrs.Sev.

"Aren't these sales wonderful?" she asked, an enormous smile spreading across her face as she brandished six or seven shopping bags at me. Crafting supplies, notepads and books made up most of it, from what I could see--every overzealous fan's dream.

I nodded half-heartedly. "Yeah, but I think they're out of everything I wouldn't be ashamed to give someone as a gift."Or that I can afford, I mentally added, feeling dejected all over again.

"Oh, that's why I always finish my shopping months ahead of time," Mrs.Sev said, a noticeable lack of sympathy in her voice. "Some of this will end up being presents next Christmas." She again indicated the bags, and I found myself hoping and praying that I didn't receive anything from her that was coated in glitter. At least the hair-bracelets had faded from popularity. "Who are you shopping for, dear?"

"Archivist12," I glumly replied. If Mrs.Sev thought it odd that I was frantically gift shopping for Arc, she didn't let on.

"Well, why don't you make something for her?" she asked. "I make all of my presents, and my friends just love them!"

"I...don't think so." I tried to keep the incredulousness I was feeling out of my voice, but wasn't overly successful. It wasn't my fault, really; I couldn't get past the horrifying image of myself handing over a card to Arc that was covered in felt, glue and macaroni.

She seemed oblivious to my discomfort at the idea, though, and continued, "Maybe you can write something for her. Everyone just loves your fics, Mina, and Archivist12 is just as much a fan as anyone."

"Maybe," I said noncommittally, and quickly excused myself.

~

The next night, after expending all of the Amazoning energy I'd been able to muster, I wandered across campus to the Cath and Chris. I wasn't really in the mood for a drink, but figured the walk couldn't hurt when it came to clearing my head. And besides, I thought, maybe a change of surroundings would give me some much-needed inspiration.

I was almost surprised to see Xena there. I'd thought she was on yet another one of her mysterious trips, but then reasoned that she'd probably returned to spend the holidays with Arc.

She noticed me walking in the door and waved me over with one hand, the other never setting down her drink. I picked my way through the bar to take the seat beside her, and placed my order with the ever-attentive bartender. Xena nodded at him approvingly as he scurried away.

"So, kid, what are you up to lately?" Xena asked as I turned my attention to her, and I shrugged.

"Nothing really," I said. "Finals are over, so...feeling relieved, I guess."

She laughed and signalled the bartender to bring her another drink. I sipped slowly at mine. "I was invited to PrinceC's Christmas party tomorrow," I added nonchalantly. "Are you going?

"No, I'll be spending Christmas Eve with Judy. I have other plans Christmas day, so I'll be leaving early that morning."

"Oh." It hadn't occurred to me, for some reason, that Xena might leave so close to Christmas. I wondered for a moment how Arc would be spending her holiday, with PrinceC's family so far away and now Xena going elsewhere. Maybe she had her own family she'd be visiting?

"You should go, though," she said, drawing my attention back to the conversation. "I hear there are going to be quite a few of the local fen there."

"Maybe," I said with a shrug. Even though I was just finishing my first drink, the alcohol must have been affecting me in some way because I then confided in her, "I still haven't gotten Arc anything for Christmas...I have no idea what to buy."

"I always get her a book," she responded.

I blinked up at her in surprise. "Just a book?" I instantly regretted how rude the statement sounded, but she grinned good-naturedly.

"Judy is impossible to buy for. She has the means to own pretty much anything she wants, and she never really needs anything. And her hobbies haven't changed much in the last fifteen years or so, so there's rarely a new interest to indulge...So I get her a book." She paused and took a sip of her drink, looking privately amused. "Well, as far as presents that can be wrapped go, anyway," she added a bit smugly, and I blushed a brilliant shade of red.

"Besides, I'm terrible at gift-giving. She stopped expecting thoughtful presents from me years ago. It's just not...me. If I got all sentimental or something she'd probably have me committed," she said, rolling her eyes. "Or exorcised."

~

On Christmas Eve I spent most of the day agonizing over Arc's gift. Nothing seemed right, nothing at all. I'd even surrendered myself to what seemed to be the inevitable around one in the morning and began to put through an order for an Amazon gift card so that she could at least pick out something that she'd like, but then stopped myself just before clicking the Place Your Order button. It just seemed so...impersonal. Besides, the dollar amount of any gift card I could get for her would just be embarrassing.

I'd almost decided not to go to PrinceC's party, but then reasoned that at least there I could talk to him about Arc's present, and it was beginning to seem that he may be my last hope. I put my foot down at spending the night there, though, and when I mentioned taking the bus to and from, Warr1or wouldn't hear of it. He picked me up right on time, regaling me with the latest fandom goings-on that I'd apparently been oblivious to over the last few days. Of course, it was all tainted with Warr1or's particular brand of bias and crazy, but at least I wasn't walking into a group of fans without any sort of forewarning.

I milled around the party for over an hour before I got my chance to corner PrinceC. Unfortunately, he was of no help at all.

"Giving presents to Aunt Judy is like giving presents to my grandma," he told me, and I had to fight to keep my mouth from hanging open in shock. The last mental image I wanted to associate with Arc was that of a grandmother. "She likes anything I give her," he went on to explain, "and tells me that I shouldn't have given her anything at all."

He noticed my wide-eyed, horrified expression, but obviously completely misread it, because he patted my arm as if to reassure me and said, "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll think of something," before moving on to greet some newly-arrived guests.

While the party was actually quite fun, I couldn't help feeling anxious and miserable the entire time. I put on a cheery smile and got through the rest of the evening, but was beyond relieved when it finally came time for Warr1or to take me back to my dorm.

~

Christmas started with a phone call--my mother, who, true to form, couldn't possibly have wished me a Merry Christmas at a more reasonable hour--and once I hung up, I couldn't go back to sleep. Not wanting to spend my entire day just sitting in my room moping, I got dressed, pulled on my coat and went for a walk. I sunk down onto a bench near the library and hung my head down unhappily, watching snow collect on the toes of my boots. I didn't even realise I wasn't alone until a gloved hand came out of nowhere and brushed the snow off the bench directly beside me and Arc sat down, holding two styrofoam cups of coffee.

"You're too young to look this sad on Christmas," she said very matter-of-factly, "and it's too cold out here not to have coffee." She offered me one of the cups, and I accepted it gratefully, giving her a questioning look. "I could see you from my office," she explained. "Is your holiday not going well?"

I shrugged, wincing as the coffee burned my tongue. It had occurred to me more than once over the last five days that usually I would go to Arc with this sort of dilemma, but in this instance that was hardly an option. Or...was it?

"It's just..." I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. "I've spent most of the last week trying to find the perfect present for a friend. She...well, she means a lot to me. I care about her a great deal, and I couldn't just get her anything."

I glanced over at her out of the corner of my eye and found her watching me with a patient smile. Looking down into my coffee, I went on. "But I couldn't think of anything. I asked everyone for advice, but that wasn't much help, and I've been to every store within thirty miles of here, and...well, now it's Christmas. All the stores are closed, and I don't have anything to give to her."

Arc looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "I'd imagine that if this friend knew how much trouble you've gone to, and how much you seem to care about her, the present--or lack of--wouldn't matter quite so much."

"You think?"

"I'm certain of it," she assured me, and then gave me a knowing look that had me feeling simultaneously self-conscious, embarrassed, and warm all the way to my toes despite the snow still falling around us.

I grinned and took a sip of my coffee, then frowned down at the cup in my hand. "Arc," I said, ignoring her raised eyebrow at the real-life use of her online pseudonym, "have you been hiding a coffee maker in the library?"

"Of course not. Don't be ridiculous," she said, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes in mock irritation. "I just know where my assistants hide theirs."

I blushed, averting my eyes, and she shook her head and smirked. "There's more in my office," she continued. "And it's probably still hot, which is more than can be said for this." She poured her coffee out into the snow and stood up. "You're welcome to join me."

"I won't be keeping you from your work?" I asked.

"It can wait."

I pretended to contemplate her offer for a second, looking hesitant. "I don't know...I hear the librarian has some very strict rules concerning coffee in her archive."

"I think she'll look the other way today--it is Christmas, after all," Arc pointed out, dropping her cup into the nearby trash bin and heading down the sidewalk, somehow walking on the icy concrete in stiletto heels without so much as slowing down. She paused about fifteen feet away and looked back at me. "Well, are you coming?"

I nodded and stood, unable to hold back a grin as I fell into step beside her. "Arc?" She unlocked the library door and then paused, waiting for me to continue. Feeling silly and ridiculous, but not really caring, I said, "Merry Christmas."

Arc's smile crept all the way up to her eyes as she turned to open the door, and a wave of warmth washed over me that I wasn't sure could be entirely attributed to the library's heating system. "Merry Christmas, Mina," she said softly. "Now come inside. It's freezing out here."

Rainy Monday

by Nocturne

It was late; Xena let herself in with the spare key and slowly crept through the hallway toward the guest bedroom in an attempt to keep from waking Arc. She slowly closed the door behind her and began to pull off her jacket when she heard a noise. She stopped to listen; hushed panting was coming from the room beside her. Xena smiled to herself and began to continue, but stopped again when she heard a choked voice whisper a name.

"Mina..."

Mina trembles, releasing a whimpering moan as two hands trace down her back and spine. Xena smiles and places her mouth on Mina's skin, pearly-white in the moonlight streaming through the windows. Her skin is sweet and salty and Xena sucks on it, leaving a bright red mark on Mina's neck; proof that she has been here. Her mouth and hands begin to move around to her front and Mina grips the bedsheets tightly- Xena's hands slowly closing around her breasts when -

It was raining when Arc left the library. She pulled her coat tightly around her and opened her umbrella, thankful she had remembered to bring one. She was a few meters away from the library when a voice made her stop and turn around.

"Ms. Silverman!" Mina called, running up behind her. "Are you going past the dorms?" She was soaked; her blond hair stuck to her face and her white shirt was transparent and clung tightly to her skin. Arc's breath caught in her throat and she hastily brought her eyes back up to Mina's.

"Yes. Care to share my umbrella? You look freezing..."

The door creaks open and Arc steps into the room slowly, her head turned away from them and moonlight reflecting in her glasses, obscuring her eyes.

"What are you doing?" She asks, coldly and painfully.

There is silence; Xena can't meet her ex-lover's eyes. Mina is close to tears with her arms wrapped around herself and her head bent forward.

"Thanks," Mina said, smiling brightly as they reached her dorm, "I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't come along."

"My pleasure," Arc replied, "now go change before you catch cold."

"Yeah, I guess I should," but still she lingered, a playful and timid look in her eyes, "do you-" she blushed.

"Do I what?" Arc asked, arching her eyebrow.

Mina looked away, "Never mind."

Arc steps forward again, the sound of her clipped footsteps filling the room. "I cannot prevent you from doing this." She says slowly. "All I can ask is that you do not do it here. I can't bear knowing what is going on inside this room and- " she stops and shakes her head. "I can't listen and know I'm not-" she stops again, her voice trembling, "I'm sorry, Mina."

Xena reaches out and grabs Arc's hand, "If you wanted to play too," she murmurs, pulling Arc down to their level, "all you had to do was ask."

Arc looks away, "I can't" she said tightly.

Mina touches her hand softly, "Please," she whispers.

Arc locked her door behind her and threw her raincoat in the cloakroom. Xena wandered in, her hair damp around her shoulders and smelling like soap and chocolate.

"Hope you don't mind," she said, "but I ate the rest of your Thin Mints." She leaned against the wall. "They were going stale anyway."

"Anyone else here?" Arc asked slowly.

"Not this ti-" Xena began but was cut off as Arc pushed her against the wall and kissed her.

Xena watches Arc suddenly dive for Mina, capturing her body and mouth in one fast, smooth move. Mina's arms are suddenly full of Arc who is all silk and skin, and her mouth is suddenly filled with the completely feminine taste of lipstick. Arc is hurried and gentle; her hands softly brushing and touching, her mouth hot and insistent and open.

Mina stripped, slowly removing the dark jeans and white shirt that had been plastered against her skin during the hour she spent wandering around in the rain. She stepped into the steaming tub and fall backwards into the water, letting the hot water lap around her body as she stared up at the ceiling.

"You never lose by loving." She whispered. "You always lose by holding back." She slowly pulled her head down under the water. "Barbara DeAngelis."

Xena pulls herself up behind Arc and pushes the short silk dress up, kissing along Arc's spine. Arc throws the dress aside and moves her mouth down Mina's neck and breast, causing Mina to whimper and arch her back. Xena slides her hands along Arc's hips and thighs, slowly removing the silk undergarments. As the silk and lace falls to the ground with the black heels, Xena roughly pushes Arc off Mina and looms above both of them, her hair falling in a lions mane around her shoulders. She smiles at them, hungrily and possessively as she moves her hands down their inner thighs. They shudder together, a longing mew of pleasure coming from Mina and a tight moan escaping Arc as they reach for each other.

"Wait," Xena moaned as Arc pushed her hips roughly into hers, "is this because of me or Mina?"

"Shut up," Arc whispered tightly and quickly pulled away, but not fast enough to keep Xena from seeing the glint of tears in the corners of her eyes.

"'In solitude, What happiness? Who can enjoy alone, Or all enjoying, what contentment find?'" Xena said softly.

"Milton. Paradise Lost."

Xena pushes Arc's legs apart and moves in, her tongue probing and stroking and Arc wildly grabs Xena's hair. She reaches for Mina, scrambling to find the tight, warm spot between her legs. Mina releases a short tense cry that pushes both Xena and Arc deeper. Their cries, Mina's wild and Arc's barely controlled, mount until they are writhing and arching their backs, hands tight in Xena's hair and in the bedsheets. They come together, Arc shortly after Mina, and they lay quietly, eyes swimming with stars.

Xena stepped into the bar, closing the door with a 'bang' behind her. She pulled off her jacket and walked toward the counter, ignoring the hungry stares from the few scattered inhabitants. As she neared the counter she noticed a familiar figure, her blonde head propped up on her arm.

"Hello, Mina," Xena said, sliding onto the stool beside her.

"Oh, hi." Mina replied.

"Don't see you here often." Xena took a large swig of Mina's beer. "Special occasion?"

"Just drowning my sorrows like everyone else.," Mina replied.

Xena moves from Arc and hovers over them again, quietly and possessively as they chastely hold hands. She lay down next to Arc, leaning on her arm, and pulls Arc's disheveled glasses off her head.

"You never remember." She says.

Arc turns to look at her, eyes still wide and dizzy, "Doesn't matter now." She replies as Mina curls up next to her.

Xena smiles. "I guess not."

Arc heard the door open and close with a bang. She got up and cracked open the door enough to see Xena and Mina in a tangled mess together, both attempting to rid the other of their clothing. They disappeared from view as they moved into the guest room. Arc slowly stepped out of the study and walked down the hall. She stopped at the door and heard Mina moan softly. Her head spun and before she realized what she was doing, she was opening the door.

Something...Performative

by JackieJLH

I hadn't meant to see anything. Really. And I hadn't meant to be seen, either. It just...happened.

My evening started out beyond boring and completely innocent. I'd been cleaning my dorm for the first time in weeks. Since taking the library position and getting my own room, my roommate-induced tidiness had been somewhat...lacking, but Jen showing up at my window without warning the other night was enough to bring it back full force. While cleaning, I found a book that I'd borrowed from Seldom buried among clothing under my bed. I wasn't entirely sure how it had gotten under there, but when I unearthed it, I decided that returning it to him was the perfect excuse to go to the library and look for Arc.

I'd pretty much settled on arranging a meeting between Jen and Seldom--after all, it couldn't hurt, right?--but then began having reservations. There just seemed like so many variables in my plan, and I wanted Arc's advice before doing anything.

Pausing only long enough to pull my hair back as neatly as possible--really, I couldn't traipse around campus looking as though I'd just crawled out of (or out from under) my bed, could I?--I pulled on my shoes and hurried to the library. To my disappointment, though, one of the other Special Collections assistants, a new girl whose name I hadn't had the chance to learn yet, was locking the door as I arrived.

'Is Seldom still here?' I asked her anyway. 'I have a book of his that I need to return.'

She shot me an annoyed, weary look and bit out, 'He left hours ago.'

'Oh...all right, then. Sorry to bother you,' I muttered and was about to leave her to her bad mood when she called after me, 'Silverman's still upstairs with that friend of hers, though, finishing up some work. I'm sure you could leave the book with her.' And without giving me a chance to respond, she unlocked the door again and held it open, waiting expectantly, then said, 'Well?' when I hesitated, tapping her foot impatiently.

Giving her a weak smile and saying a quick, 'Thanks,' I hurried past her, stopping just inside and nearly jumping when the door clicked shut behind me. I was happy that I'd get to talk to Arc, but now that I was here, I wasn't so sure that I really wanted to be. I'll admit, being in a practically empty library was eerie.

I rolled my eyes at my own nervousness, feeling ridiculous. Honestly, I chided myself, you work here. What is there to be afraid of? Shaking my head, I made my way towards the stairs, briefly considering calling to Arc so as not to startle her. But then I reasoned that she was probably in her office anyway, and a knock on the door would be more than enough. Besides, the grumpy assistant had said that one of Arc's friends was up here as well, which probably meantXena was here, so it wasn't like she was by herself.

'Nan, I'm never going to get my work done tonight if you don't leave me alone,' I heard Arc say as I neared the second floor, and I frowned, hesitating halfway up the steps. 'I was supposed to be finished with all of this nearly two weeks ago.'

'And what will they do if you don't finish tonight? Say you can't work for free anymore?' I heard Xena ask, sounding amused. 'I came all this way to see you, and all you do is work.'

'How rude of me. Please, let me drop all of my responsibilities and be at your beck and call twenty-four hours a day,' Arc answered dryly. 'You know, I'd be finished much sooner if you hadn't taken it upon yourself to send Sara home.'

Peering cautiously around the second floor, I realised they must be behind one of the many rows of shelves, but with the way the sounds bounced off the stacks in the empty library, it was impossible to tell precisely where they were standing. I surmised that they couldn't be too far away--libraries do have a sort of sound-smothering quality to them, after all--and climbed the rest of the stairs quietly, listening to try and figure out where the voices may be coming from.

'The poor girl looked like she wanted to leap across the table and strangle you. It's Saturday night; she shouldn't have to spend it cooped up in the library,' Xena insisted, and I followed the sound of her voice down an aisle and turned a corner, catching sight of them at the far side of a small alcove, only feet away from me. I opened my mouth to say hello, but then promptly shut it again as I took in the scene before me, staring in...shock? Perhaps not shock, but something akin to it. Whatever the feeling was, it left me completely speechless and frozen in place.

Arc was standing facing the shelves, a clipboard in one hand and pen in the other, looking as though she were trying very hard to concentrate on something--and failing--while Xena stood behind her, one hand resting lightly on Arc's hip and the other loosely tugging on the collar of her shirt, moving it gently out of the way as her lips trailed slowly down the back of her neck. I stared, mesmerised, unsure whether to turn and run away or just stand there and pretend to be invisible.

It took me what seemed like an eternity to react, but finally I managed to practically drag myself back around the corner, leaning carefully against the shelves. Every instinct told me to get out of the library as fast as possible before one of them came my way and caught me standing there, but despite those instincts, I was more than a little tempted to peek around the corner again. For just a second, mind you.

'Besides,' Xena continued, and I held my breath, struggling to hear her words as her voice grew softer, 'I couldn't effectively distract you with her sitting on the other side of the room, and I was bored.'

Arc laughed incredulously and muttered something about not understanding how anyone could be bored in a library--I wasn't really paying attention to the words. To be honest, I was having trouble understanding how Arc could be carrying on a conversation normally when someone--especially Xena--was...well, doing what Xena was doing. I'd all but melted into the floor after just seeing it.

Cautiously, nearly trembling with nervousness, I tiptoed back to the end of the row of shelves, leaning far enough to the side that I could once again see everything going on in the alcove.

By this point, Arc had given up all attempts at getting her work done, it seemed. The pen was tucked neatly into the top of the clipboard, which dangled precariously from one hand and then finally fell to the floor. The only attention it was given was a quick nudge with Xena's foot, which sent it skittering a few feet out of the way. Xena had pulled Arc towards her, and the hand that had previously rested on her hip now crept down Arc's leg and curled under the hem of her skirt. Moving at a maddeningly slow pace, she bunched the thin material in her hand and pulled it up, revealing--as I'd once suspected (and I nearly died at the realisation that I'd been right)--stockings that stopped mid-thigh and lacy black garters that instead of being practical, which was a trait I'd always associated with Arc, seemed more for show than anything else.

Suddenly, without warning, Arc spun around, her hands on her hips, and Xena and I both took startled steps back. Realising that it would only take the slightest turn of her head for her to see me standing there, only a few feet away, I leaned further into the shadows. I couldn't very well leave now, could I? They'd be sure to see me. If I stayed still and quiet until they were...otherwise distracted...I could slip away unnoticed, I reasoned.

'You're not going to let me get any work done tonight, are you?' Arc asked, looking mildly annoyed, but as always, Xena didn't seem the least bit intimidated.

'Wasn't planning on it, no. Sorry,' she said with a shrug, not sounding sorry at all.

There was a long moment of silence, Arc's eyes narrowing a bit, and then Xena grabbed Arc's arms, turned, and all but pushed her backwards onto the table, which creaked ominously. Arc froze and glanced down for a second, probably wondering if she was going to crash to the floor, and before she had a chance to react, Xena was hovering over her, one knee resting on the bit of table visible between Arc's thighs and Arc's wrists captured in her hands, pinned to the table on either side of her head.

I think I would have jumped back in terror at the glare that Arc was giving Xena, but she seemed undaunted, kept her self-satisfied smirk plastered across her face, and said, "One of these days we're actually going to break this table."

Arc shook her head slightly and muttered sarcastically, "And won't explaining that be fun?" She tried to sit up, but couldn't pull her wrists free from Xena's grip. "You're lucky that I let you get away with this; if you were anyone else I'd have kicked you out of my library a long time ago."

Looking pleased with herself, Xena answered by leaning down and capturing Arc's mouth with her own, and then kissed and licked her way along the edge of her jaw and down to her neck. No longer bothering to act annoyed, Arc only murmured something that sounded appreciative and turned her face away, exposing more skin to Xena's persistent mouth.

I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be seeing this. I really, really shouldn't be here, I kept thinking, but I couldn't stop staring. Literally shaking with anticipation (and no small amount of guilt), I watched as Xena finally released one of Arc's hands, once again wrapping her fingers around the hem of her skirt and pulling it up as far as she could with Arc still pinned to the table, though this time she wasn't going about in nearly as slow or gentle of a manner. From my vantage point behind the bookshelves, I still couldn't see exactly what she was doing, but just watching Xena's hand disappear under the thin remaining fabric and hearing Arc's barely audible moan was almost enough to kill me. I'd neverseen anything like this before. I mean, I'd seen it on the internet--everything can be found on the internet--but never in Real Life, and it was far more... interesting in person.

Now able to move at least a little, Arc reclaimed use of her other hand and pushed herself up until she was almost sitting up straight, and then wrapped one arm around Xena's back, her nails digging into the skin there. For a second the image of the long scratches I'd once seen in that very spot flashed before my eyes, and I leaned against the bookshelf, biting my lip in an effort to keep completely silent as Arc began moaning again, the soft noises growing louder and more insistent with each passing second as Xena continued moving her hand behind the concealing bit of skirt and mouthing her way along Arc's neck.

Suddenly Arc let out a particularly loud cry as Xena nipped lightly at the skin along the curve of her neck, arching her back and knotting the fabric of Xena's shirt in her hand. In my surprise, I accidentally lost my grip on the book I was holding, watching in horror as it fell to the carpet with a dull thud. My gaze quickly returning to the scene before me, eyes wide, to find that while Arc was too...preoccupied to have even heard anything, Xena was staring right at me.

I swallowed hard, waiting for her to call attention to my presence, already trying to come up with excuses for why I was standing there, wondering if I could convince them that I'd only just walked in and then remembering that the door was locked and they'd know I was lying... But Xena just watched me, her lips curving into a mischievous grin as I continued to look more and more flustered.

Her eyes never leaving mine, she ran her tongue along Arc's neck and again bit roughly at the skin there. With one final cry, Arc seemed to collapse back onto the table, her breath coming in small gasps and her hands still clutching at Xena's back. I stared, my mouth almost hanging open in shock and my face turning what I'm sure was a violent shade of red, as Xena once again grinned at me, still never dropping my gaze. Arc's eyes slipped shut for just a moment, and as soon as Xena knew she wasn't being watched, she held out a hand in my direction, motioning for me to walk closer.

Horrified, I backed away slowly, waiting until I was completely out of view before rushing down the stairs as fast I could. Thankful for all the carpeted surfaces, I hurried out the door, making sure to shut it quietly behind me.

I ran back to Cersei House as fast I could, drawing odd looks from the few students I passed, and fumbled with my key, finally getting inside the door and slamming it shut. I turned on the light and stood for a second, leaning against the door, unsure of what to do or what to think. Then, unable to resist, I turned the light back off and quickly made for my bed, dropping clothing to the floor as I went and letting the images of everything I'd seen in the library flood my mind.

Epilogue

'Will you please come home now?' Nancy asked, watching as I straightened my clothing and ran my hands through my mussed hair, trying to look as though I hadn't just been doing completely-inappropriate-for-work things in the library.

I sighed, retrieving the clipboard from the place where it had fallen on the floor. 'You're not allowed to be up here anymore,' I said instead of actually answering. 'I never get anything done when you're here.'

Nancy only shrugged. I suspected she fully intended to be back in the library whenever she pleased, but also knew me well enough to know that arguing the point right at this moment would do very little towards getting me to continue the events of the evening whenever we finally did go home. Since I wasn't overly interested in arguing right at this moment anyway, I let her lack of agreement slide.

As I turned back to face her, something on the floor across the small alcove caught my eye. It was a book. 'Where did this come from?' I asked, walking around to the other side of the shelves and peering into the darkness.

'I pulled it off the shelf earlier,' Nancy answered, 'and left it on the table. We must have knocked it on the floor.'

'...Oh,' I said, frowning. I didn't remember seeing anything on the table. In fact, I distinctly remembered putting everything that had been on the table away over an hour ago, and Nancy hadn't left my side since Sara went home. Looking inside the front cover, I saw that it wasn't even a library book. Nancy was lying, and I wanted to know why.

Meanwhile, Nancy was slowly walking toward the stairs, still looking at me pleadingly. 'C'mon, let's go.'

'All right, all right. Let me get my things.' Carrying the book into my office, I moved to tuck it into my bag, deciding that I'd have to look into its real origins later. As I turned the book on its side so that it would fit, a slip of paper shifted between the pages, a corner poking out into view. I pulled the piece of paper out of the book and unfolded it, realizing it was a note.

Mina-

Hope you like the book. It's one of my favorites. No rush
to return it, just get it back to me whenever you're done.

-Seldom

'Judy?' Nancy called from the doorway. I glanced up, giving her a contemplative look. 'Are you ready?'

Looking back at the note in my hand, I re-folded it and tucked it neatly into my bag beside the book.

I would deal with Mina later, I decided. But for now I wanted to go home. After all, Nancy had lied to me, and had to be punished...Already planning, my gaze raked down her body, a slightly predatory look spreading across my face. Nancy gave me a questioning look, and was met with only a small smile. 'Yes,' I said, 'let's go home.'

That Untitled Mina Fic

by JackieJLH

Chapter One

It didn't take me long to realise that I was in a fair bit of trouble, surrounded by the more unstable members of fandom--not the least terrifying of which was Mrs. Sev. The thought that the woman with her arm wrapped around me was the same woman who had admitted to keeping shrines to characters from books in her house... well, that did very little towards making me feel safe, you know? I mean to say, did she live nearby? Would she expect me to associate with her offline now that she knew I was within meet-up range? One could never tell with people like this....

That disconcerted feeling, I found, was small compared to the one that overwhelmed me a moment later, when she started introducing me to random fen scattered around the room. Whispers of things like, 'It's Mina! Did you read her story about-' and, 'I wonder if we can talk her into finishing her Sangui-' floated past my ears as I was quite literally dragged around the library by that all-to-friendly guiding arm. Perhaps I should have been flattered, but, to be honest, I was barely paying attention to the women whose hands I was shaking (or who were randomly enveloping me in rather tight hugs that lasted just a bit longer than I was strictly comfortable with), opting instead to keep a close eye on the second floor railing. I could only imagine what sort of rumours would spread if any of the library staff were to see me not only being accepted by the women who had infested the place like cockroaches, but being treated like some sort ofidol.

Thankfully, the attention turned away from me a moment later when the library doors swung open and a rather annoyed looking Xena stepped inside, throwing an angry glance back at the protestors, who were causing enough noise to have been a group of hundreds instead of just a dozen or so. They seemed to have been trying to keep her from entering, but apparently hadn't been all that successful, and the security guards were doing a rather admirable job of keeping them outside, where they were significantly less of a nuisance.

Xena looked as though she fully intended to knock over anyone who got in her way as she walked up the stairs to the second floor, and yet, considering the white-robed women around me, I decided she was probably quite a bit safer to be around. Not wanting to brave the placard-toting crazies outside anymore than I wanted to continue to chat with the prayer-bead-toting crazies inside, I quickly made my excuses and hurried after her.

Nodding to Seldom where he sat at a table near the top of the steps, looking for all the world like he was guarding the entire floor from the library's 'visitors', I looked around just in time to see Xena disappear into the Media Fandom Special Collection section. I followed, giving the confused grad student sitting at the table inside a small wave as I continued on to Arc's office, where Xena was rummaging around in a desk, a determined look on her face.

'Hi,' I said softly, feeling for a moment like I was talking to a rather irritated tiger of some sort, and not wanting to startle her and prompt an attack. Really, she did look a bit scary, with her hair mussed in a way that was a bit extreme even for Xena--I was certain it could only have been the work of either a very fast moving convertible or an angry protestor--and a look of sheer annoyance on her face.

I needn't have worried, though. When she looked up and saw me hovering in the doorway, she smiled brightly and said, 'I'm surprised to see you here, Mina. I didn't think you usually associated yourself with this particular brand of insanity.'

'Yes, well, I wasn't warned properly,' I said simply, shaking my head at her raised eyebrow. 'Looking for something?'

'They all hurried out of here in a bit of a huff,' she explained, waving her hand in the general direction of the door. 'There's some sort of meeting this afternoon between the head of the Atheist Society and the leader of the...well, of them,' and here she motioned again towards the door before bending over the drawer again, plucking out files seemingly at random, 'and just in case that doesn't go well, there are a few things in here that your darling librarian would rather not have found. You know, if they should get it into their heads to overwhelm the remaining staff and start ransacking things or something.'

'Do you really think they'd do that?' I asked, wondering if perhaps I'd underestimated the level of danger associated with what was, from all appearances, the real-life version of the Cult of the Tented Tartans. There was fandom obsession, and then there was, well, breaking into a librarian's office and destroying actual books. That, to me, was just an entirely new level of wtf.

'Who knows? They're not exactly proving their sanity and willingness to be understanding by taking over the school's library, are they? Most of them aren't even students here. Besides, I'm just doing as I was asked. The entire non-student staff refuses to come back until everyone associated with this whole thing has left. Apparently they can't force anyone to leave, and so they're doing a bit of a protest of their own until everyone has vacated the area--and taken their candles with them. I mean, honestly, the lobby was one thing, but who puts candles on bookshelves? If they come anywhere near the second floor with those things, I have a feeling heads will roll....'

Pushing her hair out of her face, she shut the drawer and dropped the ever-growing stack of file folders on the desk, looking around for a second and then heading for a filing cabinet near the door. Adage, who had followed us in, jumped down from his perch atop the cabinet and scurried away from her, and she rolled her eyes. I got the feeling that there wasn't much love lost there.

Stepping gingerly out of her way, I leaned carefully on Arc's desk, fighting the urge to look at whatever files she'd deemed important--or damaging--enough to send Xena in here to collect. I was horribly curious, but I couldn't help but feel like I'd already pushed the limits of Arc's trust quite a few times already, and though she'd never said as much, or even alluded to it, I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to take the risk. Truth be told, I'd been thrilled to have her back online after her cruise, and even more delighted that she'd not held any of my...youthful aspirations against me. If anything, she'd seemed friendlier as of late--I attributed this to having just come back from vacation, which can put anyone in the best of moods for a time. Eventually the day to day of life would wear the shiny off of everything again, but I hoped that would happen later rather than sooner.

'So are you just hiding in here, or do you have research to do?' Xena asked me, chuckling as I jumped a bit, startled out of my thoughts. 'I could use some help carrying all of this downstairs, once I've gathered everything,' she explained.

'No, no research,' I answered quickly, not wanting to be left behind to fend for myself. 'I came to see what all the fuss was about and was a blindsided by "Mrs .Sev," and the protestors looked like they were getting a bit violent, so I decided to wait until they calmed down before trying to leave.'

'Mrs. Sev? Be careful with that one, Mina, she has...issues.' She wrinkled her nose, frowning. 'You should have heard some of the things she was talking about on that island of theirs in-game. She even made James nervous,' she said with a laugh, and then added, 'PrinceC,' in way of explanation when I gave her a questioning look.

'Is his name really James?' I couldn't help but ask. 'Or is that just what he goes by online?'

'That's really his name,' she said, brushing her hair out of her face again and leaving a small streak of dirt on her cheek from when her hands had touched some of the older, dusty files. 'It's his first name, anyway. His last name is Hamill, just like his mother. Don't know what he's on about with the rest of that crap.'

I thought back to Xena coming out of Eva Hamill's cabin, and Arc's admission that she'd gone to school with both women, and realised that there was a fairly good chance Xena knew PrinceC better offline than on. I'd been reluctant to ask Arc for her opinion on the recent revelation about PrinceC's...non-fandom interests--I'll admit, I was hesitant to associate myself with him too much at the moment, all things considered--but I'd had more than one conversation with Xena in person now, and I was beginning to feel significantly less intimidated by her. It helped that instead of exhibiting her own rather unique kind of odd, as she usually did, she was dressed in jeans today and had dirt on her face. Though somehow she managed to make even that look glamorous, I noted with just the smallest pang of jealousy.

I took a steadying breath, not entirely sure how to phrase this sort of question, and then finally blurted out, 'He can't really believe he's been reincarnated, can he?'

Xena gave me a long, serious look, and I got the distinct feeling I'd said something wrong. She didn't answer, but instead handed me a rather large stack of files, piling the other stack from the desk on top, and nodded her head towards the door. Once I'd passed through, she locked the door behind us and then disappeared behind a row of shelves, emerging a moment later with a very disgruntled Adage held tightly in one arm.

Without warning, she grabbed my shoulder with her free hand and steered me towards the railing that overlooked the first floor. For a second I nearly pulled back, but then reasoned that no matter how much I'd offended her, or her friend, she wasn't likely to actually kill me in front of so many of my devoted fans. After all, they were surely unstable enough to try and avenge me.... It was a bit disconcerting all the same, though, and as if only to add to my discomfort, Seldom and another one of the special collections assistants were looking on in interest, obviously wondering what was going on. I'd gotten the impression the last time I'd talked to them that they didn't particularly know what to think of Xena--frankly, I wasn't sure I knew what to think of her, either--and I was more than a little surprised that she'd even gotten as far as Arc's office without question. Though I supposed the fact that she had a key would have been enough to convince them that Arc had consented....

I was snapped out of my musings by Xena leaning her arm across my shoulders and bending her head down enough to speak directly into my ear.

'You want to understand why James seems a little...different?' she asked, her voice soft so as not to be heard by others in the room, and I nodded, trying to ignore the tingling feeling that shot through me at the feel of her breath against my skin.

'You see those people down there, Mina?' She motioned at the women gathered around the library with the hand that was holding Adage, much to the cat's displeasure, and he growled softly. I nodded again, and she continued. 'Jamie wasraised around people like that. Instead of bedtime stories, his mother tested out her Lord of the Rings plot bunnies on him. Well, the G-rated ones, anyway.'

'By the time he was five, he was acting out his own little Star Trek fanfiction stories in the living room, much to the delight of his entire family. They're all like that; his parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles.... Their lives seem to revolve around not only fanfiction, but around role-playing, fan art, cosplay, fandom in general. They do have a good grip on reality, it's just that it's buried under quite a few layers of just plain weird. And unlike the rest of them, who began participating in fandoms as teenagers or adults, James grew up surrounded by all that.'

I couldn't help remembering what he'd said to me not all that long ago about his Christmas plans, and realised that Xena was probably telling the truth. I wasn't even sure I understood how that was possible, though. I mean, I'd done my best to keep everyone I'd ever known in my real life from finding out about my hobby. I would have been mortified if my mother, or worse, my grandmother had read some of the things I'd written--Bound for Detention came to mind--and I couldn't imagine the horror I'd feel if they'd not only encouraged my stories from day one, but possibly written something similar of their own.

'So,' Xena said after a pause, giving me a moment to let everything sink in, 'give the kid a break. He might seem a bit crazy, but it's a harmless, fun, good kind of crazy, and he's much saner than he probably has any right to be.'

Stepping away from me, she turned towards the stairs, leaving me looking out at the robed figures sprawled around the library floor and realising with horror that quite a few of them probably had children of their own at home. When she was halfway down the stairs, she stopped and looked back, calling, 'I do need to leave here at some point today, you know, and I'll never hear the end of it if I show up without any of the stuff I came for,' and smirking as I hurried to catch up.

Getting outside was much easier than I'd thought it would be--everyone gathered inside the library seemed a bit too intimidated by Xena's stern glare to come rushing at me again, though quite a few did call their goodbyes to me and made noises that bordered on what could only be described as a 'squee' when I nodded at them, and everyone outsidethe library didn't seem to care what we did as long as we didn't try to get back in again. They were too busy arguing with the security guards to notice us, anyway.

Xena led the way to her car--a rather nice car at that, but then, the woman had her own seaplane, so it hardly should have surprised me--opened the back door, and all but tossed Adage inside. 'If you throw up in, pee in, or scratch up my car, your "Mommy" will find you skinned and hanging from her front door by your tail,' she hissed at him, her eyes narrowing, and he hissed back, dug his claws into the seat as if out of pure spite, and then turned around a few times before settling down for a nap.

'Not a fan of cats?' I asked, not sure whether to be amused at their obvious animosity for each other or worried that she might have been serious with her threat.

Frowning, Xena stood up, took the files from me, and dumped them haphazardly onto the floor behind the front passenger seat, shrugging as they fell out of order. 'I love cats. That one,' she said, glaring at him one last time before shutting the door, 'hates me. And makes it painfully obvious by destroying as many of my things as he can get his paws on.'

For the briefest of moments I was curious about just how often Xena's "things" were around for Arc's pet to mess with, but then decided I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to know.

'Where are you headed now? I could give you a ride,' she offered, raising one eyebrow, and her eyes danced with amusement as I froze in place. I was horrified to find that my brain seemed to have turned completely to mush at her words--and more horrified when I realised that she'd probably meant them in a completely innocent way. I could feel a hot blush creeping its way across my face, and I looked away quickly.

I spend way, way too much time reading fanfiction, I decided, worrying that the ever increasing levels of poorly written smut that had infiltrated fandom as of late were starting to do rather unfortunate things to my mind.

After a very awkward two seconds that felt as though they lasted a year, I finally stammered out, 'Uh, no, that's all right. My dorm's just over there, and it's faster to walk than to drive all the way around.' I half-heartedly pointed towards the Tia House, which stood not too far away, and shrugged. 'I'd better get back anyway; I have some studying to do.'

'Studying?' she repeated with a frown, giving me a disbelieving look. 'For what?'

'A test....' I wasn't entirely sure what she was getting at. I mean, honestly, how long had it been since she'd been in school? Neither she nor Arc looked even remotely old enough for her to be looking this confused at the prospect of studying.

'On Monday?' she pressed, and I shook my head.

'No, Thursday.'

She sighed, hanging her head down as if supremely disappointed, and then said, 'Mina, you need to get out more. It's Saturday. You're young; you should be going to a party, or spending time with friends.'

'I don't really know anyone around here,' I admitted, feeling more than a little self-conscious, and shrugged. 'Besides, I'm not much for large crowds of loud people.' Not to mention, I added mentally, I'm sure the large crowds of loud people would rather not have a shy computer geek crashing their parties. I'd never really been the sort that did well in social situations--perhaps part of the reason I adored my online popularity so much. I very rarely made 'Real Life' friends these days, and with being at school, away from what few friends I did have back home, I'd, unfortunately, become somewhat of a hermit. Not that I was going to tell Xena all of that.

Xena stared at me for a long moment, her expression thoughtful and serious, and I struggled not to fidget under her gaze. Finally, she said, 'Do you know that little café on Chambers Street?'

'The one with all the green decorations and curtains?' I answered slowly, wondering what that had to do with anything.

She nodded. 'We're going to be stopping by there tonight around ten,' she said, and she motioned towards the library, which I assumed meant that the other half of 'we' was Arc. I was beginning to think that the fact that she'd not mentioned Arc's name nor her own during any of the conversations we'd had was deliberate, and I couldn't help but wonder if she was waiting for me to ask, or if she expected me to call them by their online names in person--something I wasn't overly anxious to do, since that's usually the first sign that someone is spending just a bit too much time on the computer.

'You should stop by,' she continued, walking around the car to open her door. 'They have the best coffee in town.'

'I...I'm not sure. I have quite a bit of work to get done,' I said in a rush, a bit panicked at the idea of having coffee with Arc on such short notice. I know this probably seems silly, considering I'd now seen and talked to her in person, but frankly, the idea of having a real conversation with Arc when she could actually see my reactions to things was a little unnerving. I'd done fairly well making myself seem rather intelligent and mature online, and possibly a bit older that I really was, and even though I realised that she probably knew my exact age and all that--and, to my annoyance, probably thought of me as some sort of kid--I wasn't looking forward to having to stumble through awkward small talk with her. I'm far better at speaking my mind, and doing so articulately, online than in person.

'Well, if you can manage to tear yourself away from your books,' Xena said with a grin, 'the offer stands.' And with that, she ducked her head inside the car and drove away.

~

I spent the rest of the day debating whether or not meeting them at the café would be a good idea. Well, I mean, I knew it wasn't a particularly good idea, but I wasn't sure if it would rank somewhere around 'not so bad', or 'absolutely awful'. To be honest, I was still trying to figure out why on earth Xena had extended the invitation in the first place.

Finally I decided that I had nothing to lose, and really, I was curious to know what Arc was like in person, when she wasn't busy being the intimidating special collections librarian. Was her rather cool, calm attitude part of a necessary façade that came from dealing with too many idiotic students day in and day out, or was she always so serious and...well, I was looking for another not-so-flattering adjective, but my mind refused to come up with anything other than 'amazing'.

Still, it seemed that she must be a trifle dull, if she was always so...standoffish. I reasoned, though, that perhaps she had to be that way. After all, Arc was amazing, as far as I could tell, and absolutely gorgeous, and I imagined she'd have quite a hard time discouraging the hordes of men--or women, apparently, if what I'd gathered about her relationship from Xena was anything to go by--if she was anythingbut standoffish.

I'd just finished getting ready, and was spending the last few minutes before I had to leave looking myself over in the mirror--one must present the right image, after all--when Jen finally reappeared. She breezed into the dorm room, unlocked her desk drawer, grabbed something from inside which she quickly deposited into her pocket, and then turned to leave, but stopped as she caught sight of me.

'Where are you off to?' she asked, sounding amused, and I frowned.

'I'm going out with friends,' I answered coldly, not bothering to look at her. Really, I was over the fact that she'd practically abandoned me in the library. After thinking about it on and off over the course of the afternoon, I'd come to the conclusion that she must have run into some of the fandom people at cons while she was pretending to be Josh--or at least, that was the only thing that made sense at this point, though after my visit into the teen section of Sanguinity, I wasn't all that sure of anything when it came to Jen/Josh--and assumed that she'd been afraid of being recognized. Considering that being alone had given me good excuse to spend some time talking with Xena, I could hardly still be angry with Jen, but it was the principle of the thing, I suppose.

'Has Mina found herself a man?' she teased, sitting down on the edge of her bed. At my questioning look, she explained, 'You're looking at yourself like you're wondering what someone else will see, wondering what they'll think of you, and people rarely do that unless they're hoping that the other person will....' She paused for a second, looking me up and down in a way that wasn't exactly how I was used to roommates and such looking at me, and I felt inordinately shy for a moment. Finally, she finished, 'Unless they're hoping the other person will like what they see.'

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. 'Unlike most of the women around here, my life does not revolve entirely around getting the attention of boys.'

'No, I suspect it revolves around getting the attention of girls quite often too,' Jen said with a grin, laughing at my "have you lost your mind" expression.

'What's that supposed to mean?' I ground out through partially gritted teeth as I smoothed out my hair one more time, trying to keep from letting on that I was getting annoyed, which I was sure was what she was hoping for. After only one day of spending more than five minutes at a time with Jen, I was beginning to realise why no one in the dormitory seemed to like their roommates. I mean, I was covering for her, keeping her secrets, and she was going to go out of her way to purposely get under my skin?

'It means exactly what I said,' she answered simply, her smile widening and her eyes adopting an innocent expression.

Well. That wasn't, strictly speaking, an answer, but it irritated me nonetheless. Or perhaps that was the reason it annoyed me. Regardless of my reasons, I had the overwhelming urge to forcefully wipe that ridiculous grin off her face. I spun on my heel and in an instant was standing over her, glaring. She looked startled for a second, and met my eyes as I said, as calmly as I could manage, 'I, for one, know exactly who I am--something I doubt you can claim. So I'd appreciate it if you'd stay out of my business, and keep your comments to yourself.'

And with that, I whirled around, picking up my bag as I stormed towards the door, fully intending on making a rather loud and dramatic exit--if there ever was a moment when one was warranted, I felt that this was it. I didn't get that opportunity, though, because in a fraction of a second Jen leapt up from the bed and grabbed my arm, spinning me around and pinning me against her desk. Before I knew exactly what she was doing, she had pressed herself against me and tilted her head just so, pausing with her lips less than an inch from mine. And once again, my body, horrible traitor that it is, froze.

Oh, don't get me wrong, part of me wanted to shove her away, tell her to seek professional help for her sake as well as mine, and march out of the room as planned. But some other part of me thought that I'd much rather remain right where I was, thank you very much, and as the two sides seemed to battle in my brain, I couldn't move, instead opting for just staring at her in shock.

Jen stayed still for a long moment, meeting my eyes, and then moved closer when I did nothing to protest. But just as I was sure I'd have a heart attack right then and there because my heart was beating faster than I'd ever thoughtpossible...she pulled her head back and reached her hand up, patting my cheek patronisingly.

'Oh, Mina,' she said, 'I don't think you know yourself at all.'

I pushed her away as hard as I could--which wasn't all that hard, considering she practically had my arms pinned against the desk with her body--and she stumbled back a step, then steadied herself and continued to laugh as she shook her head and walked out of the dorm, letting the door fall shut behind her.

I don't think I'd ever been so furious--at least, not at Jen/Josh/whoever the hell she was. The overwhelming urge to do something horribly mean, like log on and reveal her as Josh Amos, came over me, and I was already across the room and turning on my computer before I thought that maybe, just maybe, that wasn't the best of ideas. Jen knew more about me than anyone in fandom, with the possible exception of Arc, and also knew my online reputation. She could do some serious damage to my 'practically-British, independently-wealthy' image, and while I, quite frankly, didn't care at the moment, I suspected I'd feel quite differently in the morning. Or in a few days. Or whenever I stopped being angry, anyway. Besides, I'd probably have enough damage control to do whenever Mrs. Sev and friends got back to the internet, after them seeing me looking rather less than my best in the library.

Glancing at the clock, I realized that I was supposed to be meeting Arc and Xena in just a few minutes, and I seriously considered just not going after all. I was hardly in the mood to be sociable, and the last impression I wanted to make on Arc--on either of them, really--was that I was whiny and had a foul temper. But at the same time, I refused to let Jen ruin the first invitation out on a Saturday night that I'd had in nearly a year.

Resolving to not let her win at this ridiculous little game of hers--because really, what else could she have been trying to do, if not upset me?--I slipped out of the room and hurried to the lift, hoping that I wouldn't be too late and miss them. The entire ride down to the main floor, Jen's words echoed in my head. I don't think you know yourself at all.That was insane. I knew myself perfectly well, thank you, and knew exactly what I wanted in life, and who was she to say any different?

But as I walked out of the building, I caught myself watching my reflection in the plate glass window that looked in on the office, appraising how I looked and frantically wondering for a second if the shirt I'd chosen was flattering as I'd originally thought. Stopping in my tracks, I searched my mind desperately for a reasonable explanation of why I cared so much what Arc and Xena--oh, all right, mostly Arc--thought of my appearance, but kept coming up with the same unnerving answer.

Maybe there was a possibility, however remote, that Jen had been right after all...

Chapter Two

'God, Mina,' she whispers, and her voice is so soft that I can barely make out the words. Arc's head falls back against the pillow as I kiss my way down her neck, licking and sucking the soft skin teasingly. She shudders under my touch as my fingers slide inside of her, curving up and pressing into that spot that I know will make her-

The front door flew open with a bang and I nearly jumped out of my skin, clicking the window closed just as Nancy walked into the room.

'What are you looking at?' she asked, that damnable grin on her face.

'I'm just validating some stories.' Trying to calm my rapidly beating heart, I opened the browser again and clicked back to Penn'd Passion, shooting her as innocent a look as I could muster.

Unfortunately, Nancy didn't appear to be convinced. 'Then why do you look so guilty?'

Rolling my eyes, I answered without missing a beat, 'It's not guilt, it's nausea. I never should have started this real-person fiction section. You know, not once in my life did I ever have any interest in the sex lives of my friends' children, and if I have to read one more story about James meeting up with "Josh" at a convention and bending "him" over a ta-'

"Heard enough!" she insisted, just a bit louder than was really necessary, and she hurried out of the room and thundered up the stairs. I swear, that woman makes enough noise to wake the dead, even when doing the simplest of things.

Opening the site admin panel, I warily eyed the first story in the submission queue and shifted in my seat uncomfortably. Really, this story was just.... well. It was something. Something I probably should just validate before someone I knew came along and read it. Of course, then it would be out there for anyone to read, and...well.

Rolling my eyes at my inability to deal with what, in all honesty, probably amounted to the fantasy writings of some middle-aged man, I leaned my head back against the couch and closed my eyes, trying to clear my mind. Nancy came down the stairs, and I heard her bag drop on the floor by the door with a thud.

'I wish you'd wait until morning to leave,' I called to her. 'I don't like the idea of you driving so far by yourself overnight.'

'Too much traffic in the morning,' she answered. 'Besides, Val's party thing is in the afternoon tomorrow and I promised I'd be there before it started.'

I debated pointing out to her that she'd never once in her life been on time for anything and Val probably wasn't actually expecting her for a few days yet, but she seemed to have made up her mind already. If there's one thing I've learned about Nancy over the years, it's that there is no limit to her stubbornness.

'You know, Judy, you could come with me,' she offered, wandering into the room and leaning against the back of the couch so that the side of her face leaned casually against my own. Reaching one arm out, she closed my laptop so quickly I barely had time to move my hands, ignoring my annoyed glare.

'I can't and you know it,' I told her with a sigh. 'Between the cruise and those idiotic protestors, I've barely been in the library at all for a month. And frankly, I think my assistants were enjoying my time away just a bit too much. I found coffee rings on some of the tables upstairs.'

'Oh, the horror,' she said mockingly; I smirked in spite of myself.

'Nan,' I said after a minute, avoiding her eyes, 'what would you do if someone wrote a story about you and posted it online?'

She frowned. 'Why, has someone?'

'No.... I'm just curious.'

'Um...' She considered it for a moment, tilting her head to the side slightly and looking pensive. 'Don't know. Depends what they said about me, I guess. Why?'

'Someone wrote...' My voice drifted off, not entirely sure how to describe that story to her, and finally I did what I decided was probably easiest--opened the laptop and clicked on the story link. After all, she'd see the story eventually. Nancy had a rather irritating habit of always finding the one thing you hoped she'd never stumble across. 'Here, read this,' I said, tilting the screen so that she could see it, which turned out to be pointless because a second later she practically vaulted herself over the back of the sofa and agilely landed next to me with her legs tucked beneath her.

She took the laptop from me and read silently for a moment, her eyes dancing with ever-increasing amusement, until she finally laughed openly.

'It's not funny.'

'Yes it is,' she insisted, grinning over the top of the computer at me before her eyes darted back to the screen. 'Who wrote this?'

'I don't know; it was submitted anonymously.' Annoyed with her reaction, I reached out to take the computer out of her hands, but she stood and backed away before I had the chance, still giggling to herself.. 'And just what is so funny about this?' I demanded, frowning when I realised that I sounded like a pouting child.

'It's...it's Mina. And you. That amuses me,' she said simply, shrugging. 'It's just a bit ridiculous, don't you think? I mean, she's so young.'

'She's not that young,' I replied, narrowing my eyes at her and getting just a bit annoyed.

'She's...what, twenty-four?'

'Twenty-three,' I admitted, feeling just a flash of guilt at the thought. 'Her birthday isn't until May....'

Nancy raised an eyebrow sardonically--she's always amazed me with her ability to say so very much with a single expression, but at the moment I was less than impressed--and said, 'Don't tell me you actually like her.'

I didn't answer, but, of course, I didn't have to; not with Nancy. My face turning what I'm sure was a very violent shade of red probably didn't do much to help matters either.

'Oh.' She sounded surprised, and maybe a little shocked, but at least she'd stopped laughing. I, for one, couldn't find anything even remotely funny about the situation. 'So that's why you were acting so quiet the other night. I swear, I've never seen you act so awkward.'

'Yes, and thank you for that, by the way,' I grumbled, looking away. 'I'd done a very good job of keeping a rather large distance between myself and Mina in the real world whenever possible, and you had to go and invite her for coffee. Now I can't get her voice out of my head.' I only received a grin in response.

Rolling my eyes and resolving to ignore her for the time being, I stalked past her and into the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and pouring myself a glass of water. Between reading that story and then talking with Nancy, I was feeling more than a bit on edge, and I needed a moment to just think. Of course, with Nancy around, there is rarely much opportunity to idly stand around thinking, and she didn't disappoint. An instant later she followed me in, depositing the computer on the counter and instantly pulling cookies out of cupboard. I will never understand how she eats so much, really--it seemed like every time I turned around, she was nibbling on something--but decided that maybe chocolate was in order, all things considered, and grabbed one for myself.

'So are you going to tell her?' she asked abruptly.

'No!' I all but shouted, leaning back against the refrigerator and crossing my arms resolutely across my chest. Schooling my expression into one that I hoped didn't like quite as horrified at the thought as I felt, I finished, 'Anything but friendship between Mina and I would be a very, very bad idea.'

'Still not over me, huh?' she asked with a laugh, popping an entire--rather large--cookie into her mouth, and I grimaced.

'Of course not. How could I be when you do such attractive things?' I said sarcastically, shaking my head. 'Besides, if I recall, you were the one crawling into my bed every other night on the ship.'

'That's what you get for letting me drink too much.' She at least had the decency to blush, though she looked distinctly proud of herself at the same time, so perhaps that wasn't much to go on. 'And it's not like I heard you complaining.'

Rolling my eyes, I bit back impudently, 'That's what you get for letting me drink too much.' Grabbing another cookie, I muttered, 'She's a student; I'm a member of the staff. It wouldn't be right to even consider it.'

Nancy started at me for a long moment, then said, 'Judy, you do realise that not only are you her archivist, the one person whose opinion of her stories she actually has to care about, but that you've also spent a decent amount of your time over the last year or so running along behind her, cleaning up her messes like some sort of fandom fairy godmother, right? I mean, I would think that aspect of your relationship would make things awkward more than the fact that you might run into each other on campus two or three times over the entire course of her schooling.'

I glared at her. 'Thank you, I feel so much better about all of this now.'

'Just here to help,' she said with a shrug and a wink, laughing at herself--or maybe at me; I couldn't even tell at this point. Regardless, it was time for this conversation to be over. This was definitely not something I wanted to discuss with Nancy, of all people. Her biggest qualms over relationships were usually things like, "She's legal, right?" and "Does convention-sex count as cheating? I mean, what happens at a convention stays at the convention, doesn't it?" It was almost amusing--if you weren't dating her at the time, anyway.

'Look, I don't think I want to talk about this anymore,' I finally said, leaning on the counter and resting my chin on my hands.

'Okay...so are you going to post the story?' she asked, turning the laptop back towards her and looking over the submission again.

I shrugged. 'I can't reject it. It's well written.' Very well written, I thought to myself, nearly shuddering at the thought--and not exactly in revulsion either, I noted guiltily. 'And I want to get it out of the submission queue before another editor stumbles across it. I already have no idea how I'm going to show my face around the site until the story falls off the front page update list.'

'Oh please, Mina and Jamie have hundreds of stories on there about them, and they don't let it get to them at all. I refuse to believe that you would let something as silly as fanfiction embarrass you.'

'You know,' she said after a pause, 'I wonder if the author has met you. They've got you described perfectly. Dark hair, dark eyes, glasses--'

'That would describe a third of the population, not to mention my Sanguinity avatar,' I pointed out.

'Coldly delicious,' she finished, smirking, and looked me up and down appraisingly. 'I like that. It's fitting.'

'Half of the people whose stories I've rejected have called me a cold-hearted bitch.'

'I don't think this author wrote it with that particular sentiment in mind.'

'Aren't you supposed to be leaving for Val's at some point?' I asked, shooting her an annoyed glare, and she grinned.

'I'm going, I'm going.' She gave me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before breezing out the door, yelling back over her shoulder, 'I'll call you when I get there. I'm sure I'll be back this way before too long!'

'I'm sure you will be,' I said to the now-empty room, frowning as the front door slammed shut behind her, and scooped up the laptop from the counter as I went back into the living room. Ensconcing myself into my usual corner of the sofa and shifting around into a comfortable position, I propped the computer across my lap and stared at the screen for a moment.

Well, I finally said to myself, I was distracted the first time around. I should probably read it again, from the beginning. For the sake of editorial fairness, of course. Trying not to think too much about the fact that self-deception was rather pointless, all things considered, I scrolled back up to the top of the page.

~

I'd spent the better part of the night tossing and turning, trying to get to sleep, but hadn't had much success. Jen was snoring quietly on the other side of the room, and the campus seemed to have fallen silent in the early hours of the morning. I wasn't usually awake at this time, and I was rather used to falling asleep to the sound of music playing somewhere in the building or the girls on the other side of the wall arguing over something silly, not my roommate's snores and crickets.

Finally deciding that I wasn't going to get any sleep at this point anyway, I slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the computer, turning on the desk lamp nervously and then glancing back to make sure Jen hadn't woken up. She didn't even flinch--not surprising, really, since she only seemed to sleep a few hours a night anyway. Living a double life must be ridiculously time-consuming.

I signed on and saw that Arc was still online, which was odd. Usually she disappeared long before I went to bed. I stayed invisible on the messenger, though. To be honest, things had been a bit tense between us lately. Well, not tense, per se, but...off. We'd had that coffee last weekend, and I think that was when it had started. I mean, she'd been friendly, of course--I had a hard time picturing her being anything but--but she had seemed quiet and almost...distant. Perhaps, though, that was just Arc. She never had been all that talkative, after all.

I'd ended up chatting with Xena--Nancy, I mentally corrected myself, though she would always be Xena to me, I think, just as Arc would always be Arc in my head--for most of the night, who never seemed to run out of rude gossip or outrageous things to say. I was no closer to figuring out what was going on in my head, but...well, it wasn't like I ran into Arc every day or anything. I had time to get it all straightened out. And in the meantime--

I clicked my bookmark for the Penn'd Passion homepage and scrolled through to the RPF section, fighting back a grin when I saw the first story on the updated list. Well, I thought, it's up, then.

In the meantime, I'd decided, it couldn't hurt to at least get the idea out there for Arc to stumble across. Just in case.

Chapter Three

When I'd written my latest bit of fanfiction, I hadn't had much in mind other than nudging Arc's thoughts in a particular direction. I'd figured that if--and that was definitely an "if", not a "when" at this point--I came to terms with what it was that I actually wanted one day, it might not be a bad idea to have a sense of where she stood on the issue, so to speak. But while making the rather impulsive decision to post the story, I will admit that I had overlooked the fact that the online fandom can adopt a rather sheep-like quality on occasion. I hadn't, you see, taken into account the habit that the average ficcer has of falling in love with any idea, no matter how seemingly uninteresting to the general public it had been at its start, and running with it.

Imagine my surprise--perhaps horror would more accurately describe it--when I logged into Penn'd Passions a few days later to find that my story was...well, no longer the only one of its kind. Word had gotten around quickly, it seemed, and for some reason, the "pairing" had become something of an overnight success. While I'd certainly been the subject of hundreds of fics of a femmeslashy nature before, Mina/Arc was apparently far more interesting than Mina/Rabbit, or Mina/BalletChic, or Mina/anyone else, for that matter.

The fangirls had started arguing over "facts" that had never really occurred to me as anything out of the ordinary, such as the time Arc mentioned having been a guest at the Malfois Estate--an all together untrue story, but I couldn't very well tell them that, could I?--and detailed accounts of how much time we'd spent together in-game. Apparently the fact that we'd generally been surrounded by other Sanguinity players at all times--not to mention the fact that it was a game and had no basis in reality--was irrelevant, which really shouldn't have surprised me at all. Those few details were enough for the 'ship to sail, and sail it did. Very, very quickly.

The thing that shocked me more than anything else, though, was the fact that suddenly I'd been made the center of a 'ship war. While the Mina/PrinceC and Mina/Josh shippers had generally coexisted peacefully in Penn'd Passions RPF section with only small amounts of wank between them, the het vs. femmeslash issue seemed to be the controversy of the week. Tartanists, outraged on my behalf, were setting up journals and blogs and every other manner of thing to scream insults, ad nauseam, at the other side. I was half-expecting them to turn up outside my dorm room one day, white robes and candles and all, in a show of misguided heterosexual support.

Another slightly saner but equally loud faction on the het side seemed to be acting more rational, but were still set on convincing everyone that femmeslash was disgusting and that a BNF such as myself should never be depicted in such work. The femmeslash authors and supporters were returning the wank at lightning speed, and were rallying around the comments section of Bound for Detention, posting drabbles and fics at a rate which, to be honest, I envied, as I'd never written story after story that quickly in my life. Not that they were necessarily good stories, but they were stories nonetheless.

The group that really was starting to make me nervous, however, was an altogether different angry mob that had descended upon anyone who had dared to write stories featuring me in relationships with both men and women, be it at the same time or in two completely separate fics, because they felt I was being portrayed as bisexual. Their stance was that bisexuals were greedy, and that no one, not even a BNF, should get to have 'the best of both worlds'. I wasn't quite sure what side of the fence this lot was sitting on--frankly, I don't think they were all that sure either--but they seemed bent on bombarding anyone straddling said fence with insults and thinly veiled threats until they toppled off onto one side or the other. No one seemed to know quite what to say to them, and so they were generally ignored by all but the newest and youngest of the fen, who were happy to engage in debate with anyone because they had yet to learn that nothing they said would ever actually be heard by the opposing side.

I watched it all silently, staying invisible and generally avoiding Sanguinity. I wasn't sure whether to be flattered by their concern over my fandom sex life or horrified by it, but I was beginning to lean towards the latter. The constant barrage of emails asking me which pairing I supported was more than a little worrying as well; I was beginning to have nightmares in which I found out that I was really just a character in their heads all along, and had never been a real person.

And during all of this, Arc had disappeared. She'd sent me a quick email saying that she was going out of town for a week or two, and hadn't been online since. From all accounts, other editors had been dealing with the RPF section as well as all the other sections on Penn'd Passions, and so I had no way of getting in touch with her. At this point, I wasn't sure I wanted to talk to her anyway. While one story might have given her, well, ideas, hundreds of them flooding the submission queue had probably scared her off the thought completely, or caused her to write it off as an odd fandom craze that should be ignored.

I didn't hear anything from Arc for days, and when I finally heard of her, it was through PrinceC. He'd sent me a message when I'd been offline, saying that he needed to talk to me, and though I was reluctant--after all, fandom was busily writing the two of us doing all manner of...interesting things, and that made for a fair bit of awkwardness between us--I answered him the next time I signed on. To be perfectly honest, my online life was getting dreadfully boring, now that I was spending all of my time pretending I wasn't interested in my online life at all.

'They're talking about castrating me,' his message said, and I frowned, hoping I'd misread it or that he'd mistyped. No such luck. 'They had some big discussion on your review thread this morning about the most effective way to keep me from "tainting you" with my maleness, and apparently castration is the way to go.'

Not sure whether to be amused or alarmed, and feeling a bit guilty that he was being dragged into all of this when, really, I'd started the whole thing, I considered my response for a moment before answering, 'The Tartanists were considering various ways to get me thrown out of school, in order to "free me" from an all-female environment.' I wasn't entirely sure that was true, but I wouldn't exactly put it past them to consider such things, and at the moment, I felt a show of mutual suffering and solidarity against the obsessed was in order. 'How long do you think they can keep this going for? They have to get bored eventually, don't they?'

'I've seen 'ship wars go on for years,' he pointed out, and I reluctantly admitted that he was right. There was no telling how long it would take for them to get distracted by something more exciting.

'It's awful,' he complained. 'I can't even log on to Sanguinity these days. I thought I'd relax a bit by coming home for the weekend, but Judy's visiting, and she and my mother have taken over the better part of the house. I get weird looks whenever I wander out of my bedroom.'

'Wait, Arc is at your house? What on earth is she doing there?' Not wanting to sound like I was prying, and cringing at what I'd written, I hurried to add, 'It's just, the last time I talked to her she said that she was looking forward to staying home and having a calm life for a while.'

'I have no idea. I think it's this 'ship war thing,' he said, and I felt a pang of guilt at the thought. 'It didn't seem to be bothering her too much, really, but then some PrinceC/Arc and PrinceC/Arc/Mina stories started popping up and now she can barely look at me. Do you have any idea how weird those stories are for me? Not to mention disgusting. I mean, she's practically family. She's known me since the day I was born. I know that none of the authors know that, but...still. Gross.'

Deciding that I didn't really want to think too closely on the "practically incestuous" stories he was talking about--mostly out of fear that my brain would decide there was entirely too much pretty in that pairing for me to resist reading at least a few of them--I asked, 'It's really bothering her, then? They're just stories. Slightly embarrassing and ridiculous stories, but stories nonetheless.'

'Don't know. She seems okay most of the time; I think spending time with my mother is good for her. Scary as hell for me and my dad, though. The two of them are completely insane when they get together. I mean, you've met Judy in person, haven't you?' he asked, and I said that I had. 'Okay, so you know how serious she usually is. Well, after two days with my mother, they both start acting like teenagers. And, on occasion, drunken teenagers, which I think is even worse.'

I tried, but couldn't picture Arc, or Mrs. Hamill, for that matter, acting like silly children. I wasn't really sure I wanted to, either.

'Do you think you'll be online tomorrow? We need to come up with a plan to kill this 'ship war before I lose my mind.'

'I'll be around,' I assured him.

'Okay. I have to go,' he typed a moment later. 'I hear eighties music and way too much laughter; it can't be a good sign. I think it might be in the best interest of my sanity to spend the day out of the house. I'm almost looking forward to going back to school on Monday.'

He was definitely right about one thing, I mused once he'd signed off. The 'ship war had to be ended somehow, and considering the fact that I'd inadvertently started the whole thing, perhaps it was up to us to put a stop to it all. For a moment, I felt vaguely as if I were in a poorly scripted movie and this was my classic epiphany scene, but then realised that if this were a movie, I'd already be springing into action with a brilliant plan to make everything right and normal again, and I was at a complete loss for ideas.

~

Days later, I still hadn't gotten very far with the whole save-the-day thing; I was beginning to wonder if perhaps I'd started something that couldn't be stopped. And then, as is so often the case with disasters such as this, things got infinitely worse.

Friday afternoon found me sitting on my bed and Jen on hers, both of us studying in silence. We'd barely spoken two words to each other since that night when she'd...well, since that night, and I didn't foresee things changing on that front anytime soon either.

There was a knock at the door, and Jen got up to answer it, as she usually does. It was always someone looking for her anyway, though they rarely seemed to come as far as our actual room, and I didn't even bother to look up until someone walked right past Jen, pushing the door open with a bang, and stopped in front of my bed.

It was Xena, or Nancy, whoever, standing with her arms folded across her chest. She looked back over her shoulder only long enough to say, 'Give us a minute, okay?' to Jen, who promptly took that as her cue to disappear. The second the door fell shut, Xena turned back to face me, all of the friendliness gone out of her expression. 'We need to talk. Now.'

'What's going on?' I asked, trying to appear calmer than I felt. I'd never seen Xena act so serious before, and the complete change in her personality from the last time we'd talked was enough to make me almost sick with nervousness.

Wordlessly, she reached into her jacket and pulled out a few sheets of paper, tossing them on the bed in front of me. My heart dropped like lead as I picked them up and glanced over them quickly, realising that it was a printout of the RPF story I'd written. She walked past me and to the window, seeming to be watching whatever was going on outdoors, and kept her back to me as she spoke.

'You know,' she began, 'when I first read that story, there was something about it that bothered me. Something all too familiar about the way the author wrote the characters, first of all--I couldn't shake the feeling that whoever had written it had met both of you before--but the writing style seemed very familiar as well.

'Now, you know that I've been a fan of your writing for quite a while. I'd venture to say I've read everything you've written, and so I've become very accustomed to your particular writing style over time. And after reading through that story a few times, I'd be willing to bet quite a bit that you wrote it.'

Panicking, I hurriedly said, 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'I don't appreciate being lied to,' she said calmly, no emotion whatsoever in her voice. I wasn't sure what to think. I mean, had I misjudged her relationship with Arc? I'd been certain that they had been lovers once, but just as sure that they were nothing more than friends now. Perhaps I'd been wrong, and she was angry that I'd had the audacity to write such a story?

'When Judy first started talking about you--and she talked about you quite often, back when she and I started spending a lot of time together again, and still does--I wasn't sure you were to be trusted, I'll admit that,' she continued. 'As far as I could tell, you'd gone to rather amazing lengths to create an identity for yourself built on lies. But Judy assured me that she thought you were, all around, a nice person, and that you hadn't done it with the intention of hurting anyone. She pointed out that people lie all the time online, enhance their realities to make themselves sound better. They make themselves wealthier, a different age, more attractive,' she paused, briefly glancing in the direction of Jen's half the room and the turning back to the windows, 'sometimes they even lie about their gender entirely. And Judy maintained that she thought of you as a friend, no matter how many lies you'd told her.'

I didn't respond; at this point, I really just wanted to die quietly from embarrassment, and I blinked back tears as quickly as I could.

'She trusts you, you see, quite a bit more than you probably deserved at the start of things. And then you wrote thisstory, and I can't help but wonder why. Now, in a perfect world, you'd have a relatively understandable explanation, or at least a harmless but misguided reason, and if that is the case, then I will happily walk out of here and leave you alone and never say so much as a word to Judy about this.

'But the truth of the matter is, at the end of the day, you're still the girl who has built her popularity on lies, and so a part of me keeps wondering if maybe you did this for some other reason entirely. If you're trying to manipulate her into doing something or thinking something. And you know, Mina, I don't like people trying to mess with my friends. Trust me when I say that I have the resources and the connections to make people who do wish they'd never been born. And I care about Judy much more than most of my friends...

'She's confused and on edge because of all this, reluctant to log on to her own archive, so wary of running into you that she's left town for the time being because she isn't sure she can face you with all of these stories running through her head, and it all started with a story that you wrote.' Xena finally turned around, leaning stiffly against the windowsill, and I looked away, focusing on the bed in front of me and trembling from head to toe.

'So I want to know why,' she said, and I glanced up hesitantly to see her watching me with an unwavering stare. 'If someone I care about is going to be this stressed out, there had better be a good reason for it, a completely harmlessreason. And don't even think about trying to lie to me.'

Without warning, she moved across the room and sat down on my bed--directly in front of me so that I had almost no choice but to look at her--and said, 'Well? Start explaining.'

Chapter Four

It was late by the time I arrived home from Eva's, and I was so tired that I didn't notice Nancy's car parked in the grass beside the house--I would see it the next day and exasperatedly wonder if perhaps the entire point behind having a driveway was entirely too hard for some people to properly grasp--and so I was admittedly caught off guard when I tossed my bag onto the bed and the bed growled back at me. I quickly reached for the light switch, flicking it on in time to see my bag tumble to the ground and Nancy unearth herself from among the blankets, confused and angry.

'Why? I don't.... Judy, why?!' she muttered incoherently, glaring at me and then pulling a pillow over her face. 'Oww....'

'Aren't you supposed to be at Val's?' I asked, sitting on the bed beside her and pulling the pillow away, much to her displeasure.

'Yeah, had stuff to do here.... and Johnny was starting to get on my nerves with his complaining anyway, so I came back.' John, Val's husband, despises Nancy--probably because she insists on calling him "Johnny" despite him hating it--but Valerie pretends to be cheerfully unaware of any animosity between her husband and her best friend. It makes for awkward moments, to say the least, but I suspect that Nancy finds quite a bit of amusement in it all. She tends to be amused by most things, it seems, especially if it involves irritating someone she thinks deserves it.

'You threw that on my head,' she said, trying to look wounded and failing.

I laughed, only feeling vaguely guilty for my lack of sympathy. 'Serves you right. Maybe next time you'll warn me that you're going to be in my bed.'

'Wasn't expecting you home,' she mumbled, closing her eyes and then forcing them open again. 'Have fun with Eva?'

'How did you know I was with Eva?' I asked, having a feeling I already knew.

Nancy confirmed it when she answered, 'Jamie. He called me. Said he was worried about you.'

Frowning and shaking my head, I stood up and kicked off my shoes, taking off earrings and things while walking towards the bathroom.

'Why on earth would he be worried about me?'

Nancy appeared in the doorway dressed in nothing but bright blue underwear, her arms folded casually across her chest as if pretending at some hint of modesty, one eyebrow raised. 'I can't imagine,' she said sarcastically.

Ignoring her--well, most of her; some parts were easier to ignore than others--I turned back towards the mirror and set about getting ready for bed.

She stared expectantly at me for a moment, and then when it became apparent that I wasn't going to respond, she continued, 'He said this whole RPF thing was bothering you.'

'Wouldn't you find it hard to be around your godson if you'd just read a story where you and he had--'

'Not those stories,' she interrupted. Nancy has always been vehemently against hearing anything even remotely related to Jamie's fictional sex life. I haven't figured out yet if it's because of the sheer awkwardness of it all--we knew that boy when he wore diapers--or if it's due to the fact that his stories are more wild and kinky than hers and she's jealous. Though James at least keeps most of his...adventures...strictly fictional. I hope.

'The Mina ones.'

'I have no idea what you're talking about,' I answered, belying my actual feelings about the subject by glaring icily at her, hoping she'd take the hint. Nudging my way past her, I walked back into the bedroom, shedding clothing. I was very much not in the mood to have this conversation right this second.

'Liar,' Nancy stated flatly, and I rolled my eyes.

'Okay, so maybe they...'

'Freaked you out?' she supplied helpfully, fighting back a grin.

I hesitated, and then, knowing Nancy probably already knew what was going through my mind anyway, conceded, 'A bit. At first, anyway. I wasn't exactly expecting them to flood the submission queue by the dozen. And Eva had been pestering me for weeks to come visit, so it seemed as good of a time as any to get away for a bit. Besides, I half-wondered if Mina would die of embarrassment if we were to actually run into each other.'

'Um...about that,' Nancy said slowly, suddenly no longer grinning. 'I know who started it...the author who wrote the first story.'

I paused, wondering how on earth she would have come across that particular bit of knowledge. 'So do I,' I stated. 'It was Mina.'

Unnervingly, all the color drained out of her face. 'You knew?'

'Yes. Well, not at first, obviously, but there are benefits to owning the archive. Nothing can truly be done anonymously on the internet.' At her questioning look, I added, 'I had Case look into it for me.'

Nancy winced slightly. 'And this doesn't...bother you?'

'I'm more than a little curious, I'll admit, but no.' The truth was, I'd finally decided that while I could not possibly reconcile the idea of actively pursuing Mina with my overwhelming sense of guilt at the thought, if she were to take any further steps in that direction on her own, well...I wasn't entirely sure I would be turning her away. She'd obviously at least given the idea some thought, even if it was only in fiction form, and while I wasn't about to assume that she was actually interested in the RL version, if she ever were...well. But Nancy's guilty expression was beginning to make me nervous.

'Why?' I asked. She avoided my gaze.

'Nancy...' I said, a warning tone in my voice.

'I might have...mentioned to Mina that I knew she wrote it,' she said, adopting her best innocent expression.

I couldn't keep my eyes from widening in horror as I turned back to face her. 'Why on earth would you do that?'

'Now, Judy,' she said quickly, 'I was only trying to--'

'Make my life difficult?' I interrupted.

'Protect you,' she said, and then winced again at my furious look. 'You would have done the same thing if it were me,' she insisted. 'I was worried, and let's face it, Mina is hardly the most trustworthy person we know, and I wanted to make sure that she wasn't trying to--'

'No, Nancy, I have never and would never interfere in your life the way you insist on interfering in mine,' I pointed out angrily.

'I'm sorry,' she said, her voice almost a whine, grabbing my hand.

I glared daggers at her for a moment, unsure whether I wanted to scream at her--something I never do, but a scream felt warranted right at this moment--or just ignore her until she left. But what was done was done, and if nothing else, I had to figure out how much damage had been done. Doing my best to force myself to look and sound completely calm, which was something that I knew would unnerve her more than any show of anger could anyway, I asked, 'And what did Mina have to say about all of this?'

'She kicked me out of her dorm room,' Nancy answered, looking apologetically amused. 'I told her I wanted an explanation, and she was crying--'

'You made her cry?'

'Well, yes, but apparently she's got more backbone than I'd thought because she refused to say anything but 'get out' until I left.'

'You made her cry?' I asked again, anger seeping back into my expression.

'I'm sorry,' she repeated, not looking sorry at all, and flinched as I jerked my hand away from her grasp. 'Okay, okay, I'll talk to her.'

'No, just...let me handle it,' I said with a sigh, already trying to come up with a plan. 'I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Nancy.' I walked across the room, holding the door open for her.

'Are you kicking me out of your room too?' she asked with a small smile, looking down at her nearly bare body. 'C'mon, Judy, I'm almost naked here.'

'The last time you visited, I came home to find you dancing across the kitchen dressed in nothing but a pair of socks. I think you can handle the walk to the guest room topless,' I insisted, not letting myself think too hard on the memory or focus too much on her current state. Nancy has a way of destroying my will power, and if I thought about it too hard I'd have a difficult time making her go. 'I need to think, and I need to get some sleep, and I doubt either of those things will be accomplished if you stay.'

Looking vaguely hurt but also mildly relieved--after all, we hadn't had an actual fight...yet, anyway--she held my gaze for a moment before leaving the room.

Fighting the overwhelming urge to rip my hair out in frustration, I stripped off the rest of my clothes and collapsed back onto my bed, my mind reeling.

~

The Plan (which formulated in my head while in my office two days later, capital P and all) wasn't going to be easy, I decided--nothing ever was when it came to Mina because she had an extraordinarily strong tendency to do the exact opposite of what I expected her to do. Eva has always been a sort of open book, Valerie tends to wear her heart on her sleeve, and I know Nancy well enough after all these years to predict almost everything she does despite her penchant for spontaneity, but Mina sometimes just seems to go along with whatever idea pops into her head without any further thought on the subject, consequences be damned, and there was no telling what 'solution' she'd arrive to first on most things.

I'd tried instant messaging and emailing Mina, with only a quick email saying that she was busy with schoolwork and didn't have time to talk in return...even though I saw that she'd been online and even on Penn'd Passions recently. I wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or worried that she was obviously avoiding me. Nancy, despite my protests, had tried to contact her as well, but hadn't received any response at all--not surprising, but frustrating nonetheless.

I'd begun debating whether or not it would be a horrible idea to just show up at her dorm--I decided it probably was, but at this point, no viable option was being brushed aside completely--when opportunity came in the form of one of my assistants.

'I don't know how you even read that thing anymore for all the writing,' I heard Moselle say.

'I usually have one copy to read and one to take notes in,' Seldom answered, and I almost tuned him out completely, realizing he was talking about his thesis and Jen's awful, albeit imaginative, novel. Luckily the conversation continued to hold my attention long enough to hear him continue, 'But I loaned the other copy to Mina, and I haven't seen her in ages. I hope she plans on returning it--it's not that easy to find, you know. There was only one printing, and it's such an interesting--'

'I'm sure she'll return it,' Moselle reassured him quickly, cutting off another long monologue on the life and lies of Razzberry Martini, and I could hear her stand up, point out that they both had work to do, and hurry away.

The Plan came into being in that second. It wasn't the most well thought out plan, perhaps, but if nothing else it would get Mina within twenty feet of the library, and me, without having to ask Nancy to kidnap her.

I walked to the doorway of my office and called, 'Seldom, do you have any classes tomorrow?'

'No, Ms. Silverman.'

'Good. I need someone to stay after hours tonight and help me with reorganize some things.' Stepping closer to him and lowering my voice, I added conspiratorially, 'There is some paperwork I need to re-file that I'd rather not have out while there are other people around. I can trust you, though, I'm sure?'

'Of course, Ms. Silverman,' he answered quickly, no longer looking quite as reluctant to be stuck in the library on a Friday night.

'Good. Plan to be here until at least eleven,' I told him, feeling mildly guilty as his face fell, and I turned to go back into my office. Stopping just before I closed the door, I said, 'Perhaps you can email Mina and ask her to bring your book by the library. She can't possibly be busy all evening. Tell her you'll leave the staff entrance open for her.'

He shrugged, nodding his understanding, and began pulling his laptop out of his bag.

'Remember, Seldom, not a word to anyone about why you'll be here, not even Mina,' I said sternly despite the fact that he really had no idea why he'd be here anyway, and he nodded fervently.

I finally stepped completely into my office, closing the door behind me and shutting my eyes for a moment, trying to determine if there was any way this could backfire on me. A million ways, actually, I inwardly acknowledged, but I would find a way to make it work. It had to work.

~

Seldom had been steadily filing pages--all torn from books or photocopied, much to his bewilderment, but at least he knew better than to ask too many questions and had skimmed enough of them to know why he was being sworn to secrecy--while I worked on paperwork quietly from my seat by the window, every movement outside catching my eye. Finally, at nearly ten-thirty, I saw Mina leave her dormitory and start walking across the parking lot.

'Seldom, it's getting late and you look tired,' I said, and he frowned, undoubtedly thinking that he wasn't actually tired at all, and hadn't looked even remotely so. 'Why don't you go home for the night? If Mina stops by, I'll have her leave the book with me and give it to you tomorrow.'

He quickly began gathering his things, obviously not about to argue--it was still early for a Friday night, after all, and surely there was some party he wanted to be at, or something.

'Go out the front door,' I told him. 'The staff door locks behind you and I don't want Mina to get locked out. I'll never hear her knocking from up here.'

He nodded. 'Thanks, Ms. Silverman. Goodnight.'

'Seldom,' I called as he turned towards the stairs, my gaze only leaving the window for a moment. I had to time this perfectly. 'Not a word about--'

'Of course not,' he said quickly, obviously still confused as to why he was being trusted with the secret, not to mention why it was a secret to begin with, but again not asking questions. He was practically running in place, he seemed so anxious to get out the door. Clearly the evening hadn't held nearly as exciting a revelation as he'd hoped.

'Thank you. Good night, Seldom.'

'Night,' he said again, rushing down the stairs. I heard the library door open and shut loudly as the lock slid back into place, and then saw Mina disappear into the back entrance of the building just seconds before Seldom turned the corner and headed directly past where she'd just been walking. Amazed that had even worked, I leaned against the nearest bookshelf and waited patiently.

Chapter Five

The email from Seldom seemed to come out of nowhere, and I spent a few very long minutes wondering how to reply. He said that he'd be working in the library late, and he wanted to know if I could return his book because he 'missed it'. I hesitated for a moment, then typed a quick reply letting him know I'd come by that evening after the library closed. Arc, I knew, was almost never in the library outside of her scheduled hours, and she would be long gone by closing time.

When I reached the library no one was there as far as I could see, but there was light coming from the direction of the second floor offices, and I hurried upstairs, feeling slightly nervous. I'd never been in a library with all of the lights off before, and the shadows and sound-deadening stacks made it intensely nerve-wracking.

I made my way to the Media Fandom Special Collection section, Seldom's book clutched tightly against my chest, and rounded a corner created by the shelves only to come face to face with...Arc.

'What are you doing here?' I practically shouted, then simultaneously winced and blushed. 'Sorry, you...startled me.'

Arc smiled warmly, giving me a curious look.

'Um, is Seldom here?' I asked quickly, glancing around nervously.

'No, I sent him home,' Arc explained. 'He said you'd be dropping off his book; I told him I'd hold it for him until tomorrow...I suspect he wanted to be somewhere else on a Friday night anyway.'

'Oh,' I answered. I stood awkwardly for a moment, not wanting to meet her eyes. She didn't seem to hate me, so obviously Xena hadn't actually followed through on her threat to tell her just who had written that fic, but I still wanted to get away as quickly as possible. Suddenly I realized I was still holding the book, and blushed an even deeper red. 'Here,' I said, holding the book out towards her, and she reached for it, but then held her hand in mid-air, not actually taking the book from me.

'What about you, Mina?' she asked.

'Huh?'

'Do you have somewhere else to be right now?'

I almost answered with, "Bed," but then decided that bed was the last thing I wanted to talk about with Arc, and so settled for shrugging and mumbling something about studying.

'Perhaps you can help me finish this, then,' she said, finally taking the book from my hand and motioning towards the loose papers scattered in piles and untidy stacks all over the surrounding tables. 'I trust that you can keep a secret, yes?'

'Oh, of course,' I answered hurriedly, wondering what was going on. My curiosity was getting the better of me.

'I had Nancy collect some things for me during the library... infestation, and now I need to re-file it all. I'm trying to put everything in order by author and then by title. Nothing too difficult, just time-consuming. Interested?' Somehow she made that sound not at all like a request, and I felt compelled to agree to help her. Besides, I'd finally get to know what Arc had deemed so damaging or secret that it had to be removed from the library at the very thought that someone might come across them.

'Start over there,' she said before I'd had a chance to answer, pointing at a table a few feet away, and then without another word, she picked up the nearest, neatest stack of papers and carried them into her office, carefully placing them into an open filing cabinet.

Glancing at the clock and almost groaning at how late it was already, I picked up the first page. It appeared to have been torn from a 'zine, and was clearly fanfiction. Pure smut, at that. But I'd seen plenty of this in the Fandom section of the library before...After a few minutes of silent working, I realized that Arc had no intention of giving me an explanation, and so forcing myself to actually form a coherent sentence for what seemed like the first time all night, I asked, 'Arc--Um, Ms. Silverman--'

'Judy,' she interrupted from within her office.

'Okay, Judy, um...why are you hiding fanfiction in your filing cabinet?'

'It's not just fanfiction, Mina,' she answered, emerging from her office and beginning to straighten another stack of paper.

I grabbed another page from the table and began reading through it quickly, and then another, frowning. 'It's...it'schan.'

Arc nodded absentmindedly. 'Yes.'

'But why hide it? I mean, it's not like it's illegal or anything, right?' I had a sudden pang of worry that perhaps I'd been mistaken on that particular point, and thoughts of my own foray into what really amounted to written underage porn and the possible legal ramifications of that story suddenly rushed into my mind.

'No, it's not, which is why it's still here,' she said, calming my fears. 'The school doesn't feel it belongs in the library, and I was told to get rid of it,' she explained, her eyes never leaving her work.

'But that's...that's censorship!' I blurted out, feeling righteously indignant in a way, I've discovered, only fandom can make one feel. 'Why would they do that?'

'Perhaps you've missed the fact that you're attending Saint Scholastica's?' she asked, sounding amused. 'This is a private university, Mina, as is St. Benedict's, and neither school was overly excited at the idea of having a Fandom section to begin with. I managed to get one started, but it was a battle the whole way, and there were quite a few regulations and stipulations put in place as to what could be archived here. Work that most of them only understood enough to erroneously label as child pornography was not about to make it into their collection.'

I stared at her in amazement. 'So you've been hiding it right in the library the whole time? What if they find it? Would they fire you?'

'They'd probably ask me to leave, if the wrong person found the entire collection. But you can't exactly fire someone you don't pay, and most of them are willing to look the other way if they see anything suspicious because I volunteer all of my time and fund most of this section of the library myself,' she pointed out.

'But...why do it? I mean, it's just...' I stumbled through my words, trying to put my thoughts together. 'Well, I didn't think you liked this sort of stuff.'

'I don't,' she answered seriously, 'but I like censorship even less. Now, we have work to do. We probably won't finish this tonight as it is, and I don't much like the idea of carrying this all back out of the building tonight.'

Nodding, I hurried to sort out the pages, wondering how on earth they'd gotten so out of order. It occurred to me that perhaps Xena throwing them into the floor of the car hadn't helped anything, and I couldn't help but wonder how Arc had reacted to the sight.

'I guess that solves the mystery of why you're here so late, then,' I said, and then almost kicked myself for stating the obvious. She didn't seem to mind, though.

'It gives me something to do. Nancy left this afternoon, and I found myself unexpectedly without plans.'

'Oh...you must miss her when she's gone,' I said, trying to sound sympathetic and not at all angry with Xena, even if the very thought of her made me almost tremble with a mix of fear and rage.

'Not really,' Arc said with a grin. 'Well, I mean, I do miss her sometimes, but it's quite a bit easier to get used to having Nancy out of your life for a time than to deal with having her involved in it.'

I silently agreed, thinking that I'd never seen Arc so talkative online or off.

'Besides,' she continued, 'she'll come back eventually, and she never fails to make life interesting, if nothing else.'

Shrugging, I refrained from commenting.

'She has an awful habit of becoming involved in things that don't concern her, though,' Arc went on, and I froze for a moment.

'Oh?' I nearly whispered, dread overtaking me.

Arc pursed her lips. 'Yes. It's rather frustrating at times, as I'm sure you're aware,' she said, finally glancing up at me with a knowing look, and suddenly I was certain. She knew. She'd known the whole time. I wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle on the floor right at that moment. I nodded miserably.

'I....' I looked away, feeling tears gather in the corners of my eyes.

'I don't need an explanation, Mina.' I held back a sigh of relief. 'Though I would like one,' she added.

Damn. I couldn't very well refuse. Well, I could, and had done so when talking to Xena, but this was Arc. Arc, who trusted me. And who was probably thinking all sorts of awful things about me. Still, I couldn't help but wonder if that were better than her knowing the truth.

'I...' I began again, pausing and folding my arms across my chest protectively, looking down at my feet. 'I just...I couldn't get it out of my head,' I said slowly, and out of the corner of my eye I saw her go still for a moment, the papers in her hands momentarily forgotten as her gaze fixed on me. 'I had to get it down on paper just to get it out of my head, and then...I don't know why I posted it.' There were some things I just was not going to discuss with Arc, and my reason for posting that story to her archive was one of them. I couldn't; I'd die, right there in the middle of the library. 'I never meant to upset anyone,' I finished quietly. 'I'm sorry.'

'Don't be,' I heard her say, and I looked up in surprise to meet her warm, not-even-a-little-angry expression. 'I don't get nearly as easily upset as Nancy seems to think I do. Just don't be too angry with her--she means well.'

I wasn't sure I would be forgiving Nancy anytime soon, but then Arc seemed to be furious with her most of the time anyway, so...perhaps that was just a side-effect of being friends with Nancy?

'Besides,' she added with a small laugh, 'it was the first anonymously submitted story I didn't have to turn back due to errors in weeks. You can't ask "Anonymous" to make corrections.'

Giving her an incredulous look, I stared at her as she returned her attention to her work. She couldn't be serious, could she? After two weeks of terror at the very thought of facing her, she was just laughing it off as if nothing had ever happened? I wasn't sure if I should be relieved or angry, but I quickly settled on relieved and continued on with my work, still not daring to meet her eyes. Even the slightly edited version of the truth I'd given her had been enough to cause overwhelming embarrassment, and I wished for nothing more than to know what Arc's real thoughts on the story had been. She didn't seem to be inclined to elaborate, though, and I wasn't about to bring it up again, so we worked in silence for the next hour and a half.

'I can't believe how long this is taking. I'd offer to buy you a coffee in thanks, but I'm pretty sure the café closed hours ago,' Arc said with a look at the clock, standing up to put away a few more files. 'Oh well. Perhaps some other time.'

I smiled shyly, not daring to tell Arc that I honestly wasn't all that much of a fan of coffee. Anyway, if meeting for coffee was a sure way of spending time with her in real life, then I would gladly become as caffeine-addicted as she seemed to be. I was amazed that she even still wanted to spend time with me.

'Maybe Monday instead?' she continued, and I paused in my file-sorting, unable to stop myself from turning to look at her. She was focussing intently on the files she was still trying to squeeze into the already over-stuffed cabinet, though.

'Um...all right,' I said, and then winced at how ridiculously unenthusiastic and inarticulate I sounded.

'Good. I'll be finished here around five that evening, so how about we meet there at five-thirty?' she suggested.

'Okay.' Wanting to say something more, but not able to come up with anything that didn't sound ridiculous, I just offered her a quick grin.

'I think it's time to go home,' Arc said suddenly. 'It's disgustingly late, and I think everything's been accomplished tonight that I actually needed to get done, so the rest can wait until another day.' And without another word, she quickly stood up, gathered the remaining papers into a very un-Arc-like stack, dumped them back into the box they'd come out of to begin with, and settling the box on her hip to be taken home with her.

Realising that I was getting rather tired myself and that Arc--who usually seemed to log off her computer and go to bed much earlier than I did--must be absolutely exhausted, I left the office so she could lock up, waiting near the railing overlooking the empty library. 'It's kind of creepy at night, isn't it?' I commented as she came up behind me.

'My library is not creepy,' she insisted. 'I think I like it better here at night. It's so dark and comfortable and quiet...The perfect place to be alone.'

When she put it that way, it was a bit hard to disagree.

I let her lead the way down the stairs and through what seemed like a maze in the dark library, down a twisting corridor and out the staff entrance. Once outside, I walked in the direction of her car with her, watching as she put the box she was carrying into the back seat and opened the front door to get into the car.

'Judy,' I said quickly, causing her to pause, and for a second I almost reached out to grab her hand, but then hesitated, blushed, and muttered, 'Good night.'

She gave me a small smile, and I hurriedly turned around to walk away, only to be stopped by her hand grabbing my wrist. Turning around to face her, my heart almost stopped as she took a step closer to me so that our bodies were almost touching. The heat from her skin cut through the cool air around us. I nearly shuddered as her free hand rested gently against my cheek, and let my eyes drift shut as she leaned toward me.

~

I drifted back into my dorm room feeling as though I were floating, and even the sight of Jen sitting on her bed and still very much awake didn't do anything to lessen my good mood. Not until she began staring at me in shock and rolled her eyes, anyway.

'So much for "knowing exactly who you are",' she said with a snort, shaking her head, and I frowned.

'Excuse me?'

'You have...' And then she paused, standing up and advancing on me, one hand outstretched, so fast that I nearly stumbled backwards. She gave me a withering look and reached for me again, running one thumb--coarser than Arc's, I noted, and not nearly as gentle--over the corner of my lower lip, drawing it away to show me a smudge of something on her finger.

'I wasn't aware that you usually wore this shade of lipstick, Mina,' she said innocently.

I stared at her for a minute, not knowing what to say, but she didn't seem to expect any response. Without another word she turned off the light and climbed into her bed, rolling to face away from me.

Forgetting all about changing clothes or brushing my teeth or anything, I flopped onto my bed, a million thoughts running through my head. What if Jen told someone? What if....

I smiled softly into the dark, remembering the feeling of soft, warm lips against my own, the touch of Arc's hand as it rested against my cheek and then gently tangled in my hair, pulling me closer....

Letting the memory wash over me, and trying not to tremble with excitement, I decided to worry about it later. I had more important things to think about before Monday evening, anyway.

Losing Home

by JackieJLH

Nancy's been getting too comfortable lately, and it worries her, nagging at her subconscious near-constantly. So when someone she hasn't talked to in almost three years emails her out of the blue with information about a new business venture, she only hesitates for a moment.

When she leaves, Judy is mad (which Nancy doesn't feel too badly about, really), and hurt (which she kind of regrets). But as usual, Judy's initial response to pain is a mix of bitter sarcasm and quiet anger, both of which are somewhat less than endearing, and so Nancy almost manages to ignore the guilt as she packs her things and disappears without much of an explanation beyond, "I'm going away for a while," and, "I'll email you," and a very quiet, "I'm sorry," spoken after Judy's already left the room. A pang of conscience causes her to tell Mina where she's headed so that Judy doesn't worry, but she's reluctant to do even that. The next day she boards a plane to New York, and then another one that has too many layovers along the way, but it gets her to Australia as quickly as possible, and so that's just fine.

She tells herself it will be better for both of them if she's somewhere else for a bit; it'll give time enough for everything to go back to being as normal as Nancy's life ever gets. She's fairly certain Judy understands all of this, too, somewhere behind the anger. She always has in the past. They've been here before, after all, and they'll probably be here again someday, and Nancy acknowledges that for the most part, that's her fault. But every time she goes back, Judy lets her into her home, and into her bed. Nancy's key always fits the lock, the things she's left behind over the years are waiting right where she last left them, the third shelf in the cupboard to the left of the sink is still stocked full of her favorite cookies, and within days Judy has rearranged her schedule and her life to include space for another person, so Nancy can't bring herself to feel solely to blame.

But still, she's always the one to go away and to come back, and Judy never chases after her; it's like an unspoken rule. Returning to Judy is like going home; home to a quiet life and a daily routine and to someone who still loves her even though she can't figure out why. And maybe that--along with the key and the cookies and the millions of other little things that tell her that she could belong there if only she'd stop running away--is why Nancy never stays.

Everything she needs to attend to in Australia is wrapped up in a day or so, and she knows she should be heading back to the States, but all she has to look forward to when she does return is a big empty house that's never really been much of a home because she's hardly ever there, and a car that will just end up driving her back to Judy's doorstep sooner or later. So she extends her stay at the hotel and spends the next few days pointedly avoiding making plane reservations, and all is well until she comes in late--or rather, very early--and notices that the light nearest the door is turned off.

She knows that she left that light on when she went out the night before, fully intending to be back well before daylight. That plan had fallen apart when faced with copious amounts of alcohol and a pretty young girl with red hair and freckles across her nose and a cute but slightly irritating giggle, the exact opposite of the person she'd been trying to forget about if only for just a little while, and when she wanders back into her hotel room it's nearly six in the morning. And the light is off...which isn't right because housekeeping wouldn't have been in so early, and no one else has a key to the room.

She frowns and enters the room cautiously, but doesn't see anything else out of the ordinary until she walks around the corner to find Judy sitting on the couch, her head propped up on an uncomfortable-looking throw pillow, fast asleep. Nancy's frown melts into a sheepish grin--her best and most effective defense against Judy's anger--as she turns on the light and Judy opens her eyes.

Judy doesn't look mad, though, just tired, and like there's something weighing heavily on her mind. Her hair is tangled on just one side of her head, her cheek is red from the imprint of the pillow on her skin, and her glasses are a little crooked, and Nancy thinks she looks impossibly beautiful in that way that Judy always does.

For a moment, neither of them looks away or even so much as moves, and then Nancy finally breaks the silence by saying, "You could have slept in the bed." She notices that Judy hasn't even removed her shoes, and there's a small suitcase leaning against the wall, still packed.

"I was waiting up for you," Judy explains, and then glances at the clock across the room and frowns. "Well, trying to, anyway." Standing up stiffly, she glares at the couch and sighs. Without another word, she disappears into the bathroom.

Not even remotely sure what's going on, and hovering somewhere between still-a-little-drunk and mildly-hung-over, Nancy finally decides on just leaning back against the wall and waiting, her gaze settling on the suitcase. For some reason its very presence is unsettling, and Nancy's not sure why.

When Judy emerges from the bathroom a few moments later, her clothes look slightly less rumpled and her hair has been coaxed back into perfection, and she looks more like she's coming home from work than like she's just spent the night on a couch. And suddenly it occurs to Nancy just why the suitcase is bothering her: the first thing Judy always does upon arriving at a hotel is unpack, even if she's only staying for a single night. It's a ritual that never varies--Nancy's certainly been in enough hotel rooms with her to know--and the packed bag, not to mention the shoes still on her feet, mean that Judy traveled to the other side of the globe on what appears to have been a mere whim without any intention of actually spending time there. And that's just not the Judith Silverman way of doing things.

Nancy thinks, You shouldn't be here, and, How did you even know where to find me? but settles for frowning at the locked door and asking, "How'd you get in here?"

"I have my ways," Judy answers, and laughs half-heartedly, inclining her head towards Nancy, "and I learned from the best..." Then, as if hearing the unspoken question hanging in the air, she continues, more soberly, "I had to see you."

"So badly that you flew halfway around the world to do it?"

"Apparently." The dry tone with which she says this is just so very Judy that Nancy almost smiles in spite of herself. "Though I suppose I should have called first," she adds, a hint of accusation in her voice.

Nancy's gaze wanders back to the suitcase. "Maybe," she says quietly. Judy doesn't actually ask where she was all night, and she's not about to volunteer the information, so there's silence for another moment before her curiosity gets the better of her and she blurts out, "Judy, what's going on?"

Judy tucks her hair behind her ears. It's something she only does in uncomfortable situations, as if she doesn't want anything, even her hair, to get in the way or distract her; Nancy's not even sure she realizes she's doing it. Then she answers, "I have to know what it is I'm waiting for," and her arms fold protectively across her chest--another thing she only does during these sorts of moments--as she looks up hesitantly to meet Nancy's eyes. She doesn't need to explain further, really, but she does anyway.

"We've been doing this for almost fifteen years, Nancy," she says, sounding so sad that it's heartbreaking, and suddenly the guilt is back full force. Her voice lowers to almost a whisper as she adds, "I don't know if I can, anymore."

They probably should have had this conversation years ago, Nancy thinks, but she knows they never have because neither of them really wants to be having it even now; it'll mean the end of something, no matter what is said or what decisions are made. Oh, they've gone their separate ways before, and Nancy knows that it was usually because of something she did--and more often than she likes to admit, the someone else she did it with. But each time they've always fallen back into this odd relationship, once the anger has faded, and she's never once promised it wouldn't happen again. Judy's never asked her to do so, either--maybe because she knew it would be a lie anyway.

Judy watches her expectantly, waiting for Nancy to say something, anything, but there's only silence, so she finally gets to the point of this whole thing. "I need to know if you're ever going to stop leaving."

"I don't know," Nancy says, fully aware this makes it sound like she's avoiding the question, but it's the most honest thing she can come up with that she's willing to say out loud. "I don't really have an answer to that."

But the tone of her voice and the expression on her face say differently, she supposes, because Judy just gives her a sad smile and answers, "Yes, you do." And without another word, she is turning to pick up her suitcase and go. A sudden panic grips Nancy and she impulsively reaches out to grab Judy's arm and pull her closer, kissing her gently, never letting go or loosening her grip.

Judy lets her, for a moment, and Nancy thinks maybe she won't go after all. But then she's pulling away, just enough to break the kiss, and Nancy can see tears in her eyes. And suddenly Judy is hugging her so tightly it almost hurts, her head buried into her shoulder, and they stand that way for a few moments, Nancy trying not to think about the fact that even now Judy can probably smell some other woman's perfume on her clothes and see the small crescent-shaped marks left by fingernails cutting into the skin at the curve of her neck.

Maybe she notices, and maybe she doesn't; Judy doesn't say anything. But then Nancy never really expected her to, anyway.

"I do love you," Nancy says quietly.

"Sometimes love isn't enough," Judy replies, stepping away and wiping tears from her face with a shaking hand. She picks up her suitcase and turns to go, pausing with her hand on the doorknob long enough to say, "Email me when you get home, so I know you've gotten back safely?"

"Okay," Nancy says softly. This is just all wrong and not the way it's supposed to go. She considers suggesting that they both get some sleep--she'll even take the couch, or get herself a different room--and talk more about it when they're rested and calmer and when she's had time to think of the right things to say. The outcome won't change, though, because she won't change--she's not even sure she could if she wanted to--and maybe this is better because she can't bear the thought of hurting Judy any more by trying to continue this.

So she just watches, feeling helpless, as Judy steps out into the hall. And as the door clicks quietly closed, she whispers, "I'm sorry," trying not to wonder if actually saying it to Judy for once would have made any difference.

Kissing Cousins

by Anon

The road stretched out before them, empty except for the Fury, which purred and throbbed beneath their thighs. The radio had long since died, the one functional classic rock station dissolving by degrees into static, until finally Jab had wordlessly acknowledged defeat by reaching out to switch it off. The missing Magic Box Of Hair Metal Cassettes, recently stolen by some skank of a demon, was a sore point right now. They drove in silence for a while, until his impatience peaked. "So tell me about this case."

Pierce shook his head. "I'm not so sure this is a case."

"There've been, what, two attempted kidnappings? Sounds like a case."

"There are kidnappings every day, and most of them aren't our kind of case," Pierce pointed out. "Besides, I'm not sure this is even real."

Jab waited, and Pierce explained. "I mean...mall kidnappings? Of teenage girls? It sounds like an urban legend. There have been rashes of this sort of story since back in the eighties, and they never trace back to anything real. It's probably just some rumour, blown up out of nothing."

"Teenage girls?" Jab asked, looking less ready to fall asleep at the wheel.

"Down, boy. But, yeah: the two attempted 'kidnappings' involve girls from the local high school, who were hanging around the Mistletoe Grotto."

"Do I even want to know what a Mistletoe Grotto is?"

"According to the high school website, it's a sort of kissing booth, and they're using it to raise money for the local food bank," Pierce said, shrugging. "And now two girls--not volunteers, they were just hanging around--are claiming to have been drugged by someone who tried to kidnap them."

Jab said nothing, and didn't lift his eyes from the road ahead, but Pierce saw the tiny smirk on his face and sighed heavily. "Jail. Bait," he said tersely through clenched teeth.

"What? Did I say anything? I said nothing," Jab protested.

"You didn't have to. You had that 'teenage girls at a kissing booth' look."

"I have a specific look for that?"

* * * * * * *

"Jab Smith and Pierce Wesson," Jab told the hotel clerk. Pierce struggled, unsuccessfully, not to roll his eyes.

* * * * * * *

"So just before you started feeling sick, you were doing what, exactly?" Pierce asked, trying to sound patient. Even Jab was starting to look as if the tedious self-absorbed reality of teenage girls was wiping the fantasy version from his mind.

"I was just standing around the, you know, the grotto."

"Were you, uh, in line to buy a kiss?"

"God, no." She made a face indicating this was the stupidest thing anybody in the history of the world had ever asked. "The grotto sucks. I mean, mistletoe, how lame is that? We were just making fun of it."

"And then," Pierce consulted his notes, "That's when you said you felt a little prick?" Jab snorted, and Pierce glared at him.

"A whole bunch of little pricks." Jab turned away, entirely losing the battle for control over his own facial expression. "They jabbed me in the neck. And that's just what happened to Kate, too, you can ask her. Except it got her in the arm. But there was this sharp pain, and then I felt really dizzy, so I went outside. And while I was sitting out there trying not to puke, this huge hairy white guy asked me to get in his truck. If you ask me," which Pierce hadn't, and had had no intention of, "it's some sort of kidnapping ring, and they're, like, drugging all the hot girls with syringes. I mean, none of the dweebs volunteering for the grotto have been attacked. What does that tell you?"

* * * * * * *

"What does that tell us?" Pierce asked, once they'd politely dismissed the girl, who'd promptly grabbed two of her BFFs and headed for the mall washrooms for whatever it was girls did in groups in public washrooms. He and Jab were standing near the Mistletoe Grotto, at the edge of a crowd composed equally of people waiting in line and people standing in small clumps, mocking the grotto itself.

Jab shrugged. "That she over-estimates her own attractiveness?"

"That's not helpful. Look, do you think she's telling the truth? Was she drugged by a would-be kidnapper?"

"You're the one who said this was just an urban legend, dude," Jab reminded him, knowing even as he spoke that this was the part where Pierce would pull some complicated explanation out of thin air.

"Yeah, but listen," Pierce said, suddenly whipping out a laptop, "this is all happening around the Mistletoe Grotto, right? And there's a lot of mythology surrounding mistletoe."

"Which you're going to tell me about, whether I want to hear it or not."

Pierce ignored this. "For instance, Baldur was killed by being shot with mistletoe. Norse God," he explained, in response to Jab's blank look. "Thought he was immortal. Later he was resurrected, and his mother demanded that everyone celebrate by kissing whenever they passed under the mistletoe. Which is what our victims have in common--they weren't honoring the mistletoe tradition, they were mocking it."

"Could his mother, by any stretch of the imagination, be described as a big hairy white dude? Because otherwise I'm not seeing the connection."

"Maybe that's Baldur," Pierce said reasonably.

"Zombie Baldur is pissed at these girls because they aren't kissing under the mistletoe and proving they take his death seriously?" Jab considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Cool. I like it. So if you were an angry formerly-dead dude, what would your next move be?"

Simultaneously they turned to look in the direction of the mall washroom, where the latest not-quite-victim had disappeared. "Ah, crap," said Jab, in answer to his own question, and they started to run.

* * * * * * *

The girl was sitting on the tile floor, wearing a gown and cape completely unlike her own jeans and sweater--which were, Jab saw, neatly folded on the bathroom floor next to her. Some huge guy with shaggy shoulder-length hair and clothes made of leather and coarse wool, sort of like an escaped Viking cosplayer, was patiently cutting her hair while she sobbed and slumped dazedly against the wall. Her two friends--already shorn and redressed--were lying with their heads in her lap, completely unconscious.

As Pierce and Jab entered the already-crowded washroom, the kidnapper jumped to his feet with a roar, and pointed one hand at Pierce, who had uncharacteristically pushed his way ahead of Jab. A handful of white and green glittering, sparkling points spun toward them, dazzling them both. It was a bit like being in a snowglobe when someone had shaken it, except the swirling bits of sparkle were all headed directly at Pierce. Jab, standing behind him, was entirely blocked from the spray.

"Son of a bitch!" Jab exclaimed as Pierce slumped to the floor. Jab knelt tenderly behind him, and saw that there were a handful of tiny spears embedded in the smooth skin of Pierce's face. The hairy Viking guy turned threateningly, and Jab held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Nothing personal, dude, just an expression. I don't even know your mother."

After an ominous pause the guy hoisted the two sleeping girls to his shoulders and left, not so much walking away as vanishing.

"Freaky," Jab said, and then struggled to sling Pierce over his shoulder. The girl on the floor had stopped crying and was watching him, wide-eyed. "Do you think you can walk? I've kind of got my hands full here." She nodded, and he pointed her back to the mall, where there were already policemen at the grotto. "Go tell them what happened, will you? My partner and I will, uh, catch up to you later on." He slipped past the washrooms and out the back entrance--no point in hanging around a crime scene looking suspicious.

* * * * * * *

"Now it's time for you to research us up some more information," Jab said, caressing the wheel of the car. Pierce was already consulting their Journal of Convenient Stuff.

"They've probably been taken to the Hall of Frigg," Pierce said. He rolled his eyes at the smirk that spread across Jab's face in response. "It's the home of Frigga, the Norse goddess of marriage. She's Baldur's mother, after all, and responsible for the whole mistletoe thing."

The smirk was still there. "Marriage as in..." Jab prompted expectantly. Pierce sighed.

"It's not a euphemism. Marriage as in marriage. Vows, children, home and hearth? All that domestic stuff?"

Jab looked unconvinced. "Are you sure? Because that name really sounds like..."

"I'm sure. These girls are being taken from the mall and forced into a life of wedded bliss, fidelity, and domesticity."

Now Jab looked appalled. "That's horrible! We have to put a stop to this!" Sighing, Pierce buckled his seat belt.

"Do you even know where we're going?"

Jab pulled a crumpled brochure out of his pocket.

"Frigga's B&B offers Old-World Charm?" Pierce read, in tones of complete disbelief. "Are you kidding me?"

"I picked it up at the hotel." Jab squirmed, slightly uncomfortable. "I thought maybe she was running, you know, a...not really a B&B." Pierce looked momentarily blank, then revolted. "Hey, c'mon," Jab protested. "With a name like that, she's pretty much asking people to misinterpret her. Anyway, there's a map on the back."

* * * * * * *

"Yes, the girls are here." Frigga had let them in without question; now they were seated in her overcrowded parlour, refusing cookies and hot drinks from a succession of young teenage girls. For kidnap victims, they looked strangely happy. Maybe they were employees. "They're happy here, you know. Their only punishment will be to make early marriages, and bear children. You'd be surprised how readily they embrace their fate, these days--I blame Twilight, personally. But it makes my job easier, and I do have to enforce the rules about mistletoe, after all."

"And you," Frigga went on, sounding more formal and Goddessy, "are, here in my household, subject to the same law." She pointed upwards, over their head. "Scorn to pay proper tribute to my son, and you will meet the same fate."

Pierce looked up. Sure enough, he and Jab were seated beneath a high ceiling spread with mistletoe. "The same fate? You mean...wives? Happy marriages, and children? Families of our own?" His eyes and voice were wistful.

Beside him, Jab shuddered. "Not a chance," he said decisively, and swept the younger man into his arms, tilting him backwards across his bulging lap before Pierce could do more than sputter weak objections, and silencing him with a punishing kiss.

* * * * * * *

"What about the girls?" Pierce asked, after Jab had dragged him to the car.

"The girls?" Jab reversed carefully, then tore out of the parking lot in a cloud of dust.

"The teenage brides-to-be? The young women we were here to rescue?"

"Pierce," Jab said firmly, "some days, it's enough of a victory just to save yourself, you know? She said they'd be happy. She seemed like a nice enough lady, for a goddess. Hell, I believe her, okay? And I think the girls are in way less trouble than we'd have been if we stayed there any longer."

Pierce didn't answer, but for some reason the faintly wistful look was back on his face.

Authorial Fanon

by Mina de Malfois

The library had been closed for hours, and most of its lights were out, when Nancy let herself inside and made her way upstairs. The keys to the library, to the archive, to Judy's office itself, were peculiarly exciting in themselves--mute proofs, each of them, that whatever spats went on by daylight Judy hadn't, wouldn't, maybe couldn't walk away from whatever this was they shared. More than friendship, certainly--less than commitment, but Nancy ruefully acknowledged, now as always, that she had only herself to blame for this.

Not for the first time she wondered what it would take, exactly, to demonstrate to Judy that all her much-vaunted freedom had, by now, no internal reality whatsoever: it was a myth, a game, a way to fill the time and the gap between now and the moment when she could admit she wasn't free at all and, even more, that she didn't want to be. Would Judy even believe her, after all this time and all these conquests? Shared mythologies have power, and their group had for so long now believed in Nancy the Heartless, Nancy the Conquerer, that the real Nancy, the one with the fully conquered heart, might seem an impossibility.

But a body, hot and hard and greedy: that they all knew she had, and that, thank the gods, Judy could never doubt, and seldom resist. Nancy grinned to herself, and unlocked the last lock.

Judy was sitting behind her desk, poised and impeccable as always. She raised one graceful eyebrow as Nancy entered the room. 'Changed your mind?' she asked blandly.

'Supposing I have,' Nancy said, shutting the door. 'What's that worth? Ten of the best?'

'Three,' Judy countered, but she was smiling now, just a little, and Nancy saw the blood rising from her throat to flush her cheeks.

'Seven,' Nancy said, her voice husky even in her own ears, and Judy nodded, wordlessly opening the bottom drawer of her desk--and that was one key, Nancy realized with a rush of insight, that she hadn't been given. Yet.

The leather riding crop was gorgeous in Judy's slim, white hand. 'The desk will support your weight,' she reminded Nancy, her eyes shining oddly. 'Bend over...'

Further Authorial Fanon

by Mina de Malfois

They'd been working on Princely Plots for hours.

"I bet you never imagined you'd be turning to me for help." PrinceC almost managed to say that without smirking; perhaps if he'd tried, it would have been smirk-free. But it's difficult not to smirk when you're confident about how the conversation will go.

"Not particularly, no." Warr1or shrugged. He was standing behind PrinceC, not even close enough to read the screen over the younger man's shoulder. His hands were in his pockets; his space was inviolate, and he'd left distance between them deliberately. But now, sensing the slight challenge, he took one step forward. Still not close enough to touch, but close enough to loom. PrinceC didn't hear the step, didn't register the looming. "Why?"

Now PrinceC shrugged, one shoulder only, the movement carelessly beautiful under the silk of his Gryffindor pyjamas. "It's just that I know what you think of me, or at least, what your first impressions of me were."

"Really." It wasn't a question, just a desert-dry statement, irony laced with something that might have been anger. "That's quite a talent, mindreading."

Now PrinceC spun around, hearing something he couldn't quite identify. For the first time he looked puzzled, puzzled enough that he forgot to look cocky. That only lasted a second, though, and then the surety came back.

"You're not exactly hard to read," he teased. "You probably thought I was just another fanboi, revoltingly casual about gender and sexuality. Or possibly you thought I was going to burn in hell for reading slash, or for shipping the wrong characters."

Warr1or's eyes darkened, but he answered calmly. "You forget how well known you are, then. I'd heard about you long before you ever spoke to me. I thought the same things everyone thinks, unless they're one of your fans."

PrinceC's smile faltered, but not a lot: he'd known, of course, that everyone with a large following inevitably attracts a few anti-fans. Still, he stood up before he answered, some instinct warning him that this entirely pleasant banter was turning somehow confrontational.

"And what, exactly, is that? What did you think?"

Warr1or stepped closer still. "Too caught up in your own popularity to question yourself. Careful to play it right down the line: just scornful enough of your fans to look cool, but not scornful enough to really risk their adulation."

PrinceC blinked. "Where the hell is this coming from?"

Warr1or wasn't done. "Cautious about weighing in on anything really controversial; diligent about weighing in on the things fandom likes to think are controversial, like sexuality, but only to give the already agreed-upon answers. But you give the answers quicker than anyone else, louder, in just the right words--so you always look like the magic boy, golden, bright, ahead of the curve. And no one has ever said anything different, to your face. It's only behind your back they call you a squib in Gryff pyjamas."

"I thought you were going to call me corrupt. Or unmanly." He gamely aimed for a light tone, but his voice shook, spoiling the effort.

"Oh, no: not that. Never that." The tension between them was almost audible, like steel screaming. Warr1or took the last step, and then there was no space left between them, only the warmth of Warr1or's body, as improbably hard and male and fantasy-worthy as one of his stupidly stereotyped fic characters. PrinceC shivered, unable to look away.