Author's Note: My earlier BMW stand-alone fics "Idiot Savant" and "Average Boy" can be read as the backstories to this much longer work. You do not have to have read those, however, to follow this one.

I'll be posting chapters one or two at a time over the next couple weeks. Any feedback from you guys is much appreciated-I'd love to hear what you're thinking about the plot and characterizations as the story goes on.

This story takes place about eight years after the end of the series, so roughly 2008/2009. It does start out on kind of a depressing note, but I promise it picks up and gets a lot more fun as it goes along (at least to my mind).

Christmas dinner that year is even worse than Cory thought it would be. Morgan's doing study abroad and having the time of her life in New Zealand and Eric's spending the holiday with his new in-laws in Seattle. Josh is there, thank goodness-seeing him is the only bright spot of the trip-but even he doesn't want to be there. He's just playing with his food and counting down the minutes until he's excused to go over to his friend Milo's house and compare gifts.

For the four grown-ups at the table, it's an uncomfortable meal of Amy and Topanga discussing the fertility treatments in terms too technical for Josh to understand and Alan looking concerned as Cory explains how, for the third time in four years, he's been laid off again. Topanga discusses injections and mind-bogglingly costly drugs and Cory rambles about corporate mergers and downsizing.

"You've got to find a way to make yourself indispensable," Alan says, as if it's something Cory's never considered. Cory nods patronizingly and stands up to get more wine.

As he heads into the kitchen, he can hear Topanga explaining that Cory's job loss doesn't mean they're in any danger of losing the roof over their heads-her job keeps them comfortable and she's still on track to make partner within the next year.

"With kids, though, there's never enough money," Amy says.

In the kitchen, Cory pours himself a generous glass of merlot and sips it while standing over the sink. He plucks some cashews from an open tin on the counter and eats them while looking out at Feeny's house. The Feenys have gone to Hawaii for the holidays, news which Cory found both sweet and amusing. He thinks maybe next year, he'll push Topanga to go for something similar. No family, no uncomfortable conversations. Just the two of them on a beach somewhere. They haven't had a real vacation together since their Honeymoon. Topanga has mentioned planning something for their tenth anniversary, but that's still a few years off. Cory wonders if they need to do something sooner than that.

When he heads back to the dining room, the mood has changed. Topanga looks more excited than she has in months.

"Cory," she says, "you didn't tell me about Shawn."

"Shawn?" Cory hasn't said that name out loud in ages. "What about him?"

"That he's writing those books," Topanga turns back to Amy, "What are they called again?"

"Cheaty O'Zero. You know, Cory, the kids books. Josh and all his friends have been reading them. They said in the paper they're gonna make a movie."

Cory sits back down in his seat, confused. The world of popular literature is about as far off his radar as it gets these days. The name sounds familiar, though. He seems to remember seeing a display at the bookshop in the airport. "What are they about?"

"They're like Harry Potter," Amy says but Josh corrects her.

"No they're not."

Amy smiles. "Okay, they're not like Harry Potter. There's no wizards or magic. They're mysteries. They're very fun."

"You've read them?"

"Oh, yes. Everybody is. They're bestsellers."

Cory is dumbfounded taking all this in. He doesn't even notice that Josh has left the table and run up the stairs to his room.

"You know," Amy says, "George Feeny was asking if you couldn't maybe approach Shawn and see if he'd like to come to Josh's school-your old school-and talk to the kids. It would be really great for them."

"Feeny'd probably have better luck than I would contacting him. We haven't talked in years."

"I thought you said last Christmas you were going to get in touch with him?"

"Yeah, well," Cory shrugs. Things have turned awkward again. Beside him, Topanga has regained the tense posture that's become her standard body language.

The moment is interrupted as Josh returns and shoves a paperback into Cory's hands. "Do you think you could get him to sign it?" Josh asks.

Cory looks down at the colorful book. Cheaty O'Zero and the Missing Mircrochips is emblazoned above a cartoony drawing of a boy on skateboard being followed by a looming, shadowy figure. In smaller font along the bottom of the cover is the name S.P. Hunter. Cory runs a finger over the embossed letters.

"If you let me borrow it, I'll see what I can do," he tells Josh, who seems satisfied and then asks if he can go to Milo's now.

That night, Topanga sleeps beside him in her eyemask and flannel pajamas. They're off to Pittsburgh bright and early tomorrow to go through the whole routine again with her mother. Topanga, doing exactly what should be done, as always, is asleep before 9:30. Cory stays up late, though, reading the Cheaty O'Zero book.

He hadn't known quite what to expect, but he's pleasantly surprised. The book is fun and a page-turner. It's also funny. And even though he's operating in a kiddie/genre mode, Shawn's voice is unmistakable. It doesn't hurt that the hero of the series, Cheaty, is an orphan kid from a trailer park who uses his street smarts to solve mysteries around Philadelphia. He also has a loyal sidekick/best friend, Kevin, who comes from a good neighborhood and whose family practically adopts Cheaty. The two of them even have a wise teacher/mentor figure who talks exactly like George Feeny. Somehow Shawn turned their childhood into a kids bestseller and it's the most enjoyable thing Cory's read in ages.

He finishes the book around 2 a.m. but finds he can't sleep after that. He lays awake until morning, thinking about Shawn.

The next day, Topanga's annoyed about having to do all the driving to Pittsburgh-rental cars make her nervous-but Cory pretends he doesn't notice. He puts his seat back and sleeps on the drive but doesn't dream about anything happy.

They fly back to California the next afternoon and Cory buys up all the other Cheaty O'Zero titles available at the airport bookshop. Even Topanga closes her laptop long enough to read through one on the plane and admits that it's a surprisingly good read. "He's got a goldmine with this series," she muses, opening up her case files once again.

Cory agrees, but when he finishes his second book he doesn't want to appear too obsessed so he just flips the book over in his lap. The enigmatic single line author bio on the back cover stares at him for the rest of the flight: S.P. Hunter lives in New York.

Topanga is crying tears of frustration again. Cory's holding her but he doesn't know if he can take much more of this. It has been years now, years that they've been on this obsessive, heartbreaking quest and all it's done is made them miserable. Cory always assumed he'd have kids, but he never thought they'd go through anything like this. For the millionth time he wonders if anything could possibly be worth this much unhappiness.

But Topanga has never given up on anything. 700 A's in high school, beating out hundreds of other applicants for the most prestigious internship in New York, partner by thirty...she would die before she failed at something human beings have been doing since the dawn of their existence. And so it has taken over their lives. They're pouring enormous amounts of money into specialists and treatments and it has become the only topic they've really talked about for the past two years. Every other aspect of their lives has remained on hold, waiting for this part to be settled first. Every decision, from Cory's job search to his beer consumption is discussed and debated in terms of how it might effect Project: Have a Baby. Their sex life has become an elaborately regimented activity that Topanga takes notes on like a laboratory experiment. She crafts spreadsheets and reports the details to her team of doctors. Cory has started to dread it. He feels like he's just an instrument in some never ending failed experiment. He doesn't tell her this, though. He wants to support her. Support them. He wants what she wants and he wants her to be happy, but he can't shake the fact that he feels tremendously alone.

If he's being truthful, though, Cory knows it's not just this that's making him feel miserable and depressed. He hasn't been happy in a long time. Ever since college he's felt like he's been trying and failing to find his place, whether through a job or through his personal life, but nothing has ever clicked. He's been frustrated for a while now that he's had no purpose in life other than potential inseminator and supportive spouse of Topanga Lawrence-Matthews, rising legal star at Sutter, Stone & Associates. He has no friends in Orange County, has had no one, really, but Topanga. And he wonders, the last couple of months especially, if he even has her anymore. He doesn't remember the last time they laughed about anything. He can't recall the last time they had an intimate conversation that didn't revolve around Project Baby.

He misses her. And he misses who he used to be.

"Hey," he says as he watches her wipe her eyes and carefully reconstruct her composure, "I've been thinking maybe we should take a trip."

Topanga makes a face. "We just came back from Philadelphia. And I'm being sent to Flagstaff again next month." She has now completely erased any evidence of having been crying and is slipping out of her bathrobe and into her clothes for work.

"No," Cory says, leaning against the door jamb of the closet as she dresses, "Not like that kind of trip. Like a vacation. Just you and I."

Topanga tosses him a patronizing smile and then turns her attention from her suit to her jewelry. "That sounds great, but I have no idea when I'd be able to take any time off work. Besides, we really need to watch what we're spending. I want to start another round of injections as soon as possible."

"Topanga," he says, turning her to face him, "I mean it. I really think it's important. We need to have some time together. Some time away from here and away from all this stuff." He waves his hand to the side, as if physically pushing away their problems.

And Topanga looks at him then and it's like the first time she's actually seen him in months. She doesn't say anything, just looks into his eyes. Then she smiles a real smile this time.

"Let's find a way to do it, then."

Cory's heart leaps. "Really?"

"Yes. How about New York?"

"New York?"

"I love New York. We spent the best time there. I want to go back to all our old places, see my friends from NYU."

Cory remembers Central Park, that coffee shop near NYU, their tiny apartment. He remembers being young and happy. "Okay. Let's do New York."

He follows Topanga to the front door as she gathers up her laptop and paperwork, grabs her car keys. "Let me talk to Bob when I get into work. I'll see what I can work out time-wise."

"Okay."

"Love you," she plants a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Love you too."

Cory sighs as the door closes behind her. Then he is surprised as it immediately opens again and she pokes her head in. "You know what you should do?"

He smiles. "What?"

"Get in touch with Shawn."

The smile drops off Cory's face. Topanga continues, "Just send him an email. Tell him you're coming to New York for a bit. See if he wants to get together."

"I don't know about that..."

"Oh, come on. It's an email. The worst thing that'll happen is he says no. And if he says yes, then you meet up for dinner, catch up. No big deal."

Cory's unease is palpable and Topanga rolls her eyes. "Listen, Cory, you've never forgiven yourself for falling out with Shawn. It's worth a shot, right? One little email? At least you can say you tried."

He doesn't say anything, but she smiles anyway, knowing that she's convinced him. "Gotta go," she says and ducks back out the door.

He stands alone in the foyer for a few minutes, waiting to see if she's going to pop back in again. When it's clear that isn't going to happen, he sighs and shuffles back into the house proper, ready to start another rotten day spent in his pajamas.

Cory sits in front of his laptop, still in his pajamas but now with a beer. He's pulled up all his bookmarked job hunting sites as he does every morning, but there's nothing more exciting there today than there has been yesterday and the day before and the day before that. So he opens another tab and Googles Shawn.

He's surprised at the number of pages that immediately come up. Links to buy the books at Amazon, reviews, fan pages about the characters. There's not a single picture of Shawn anywhere, though. Cory clicks on an official-looking website and finds that it's the promotional website for the Cheaty O'Zero series, put out by the publisher. He wades through animations and games and information about upcoming titles in the series. Finally, he finds a link with a little form where readers can write to S.P. Hunter.

Feeling a little bit stupid-the form is obviously designed for eight-year-olds to compose fan letters-he starts to fill in the form. Then he stops. He finishes his beer, gets another one from the fridge and returns to the computer.

Fuck it. It's better than cruising the job sites again.

Dear Shawn, he begins, It's been a really long time but I hope this message finds you well...