TJ's head was throbbing harder than a just-beaten gong, and probably for good reason. He'd had more than his share of Jack last night with Spinel-

Spinelli. With Spinelli, in the cemetery. With a combination of horror and elation, TJ remembered the night before.

"Yeah, really," he told her. "You're pretty much the most amazing person I know. If it wasn't for you I'd be slow dancing with Ashley A. right now, cuz that's what everyone wants me to do."

She laughed. "Yeah TJ, I doubt everyone wants you dancing with A…every girl in that damn school wants to be all caught up in your arms or whatever. Don't be offended that it isn't my style. It isn't that I'm not interested. It's just that I'd much rather just do this." With that, she leaned forward and kissed him. No hesitation, just suddenly those perfect lips on his. She tasted like Jack Daniels and Mary Janes and every good memory TJ had, of summer sun and winter snow, of laughter and sarcasm and perfection. Before he could really enjoy it though, she had pulled away and was staring in his eyes. "You're drunk Teej. And I'm hammered. We need to go home."

"What for?" he asked, feeling for all the world like a stereotypical stupid jock.

Spinelli just smiled at him, a strange, sad smile, then stood up and turned away. "Come on, Teej. We'll talk in the morning." And with those words she'd walked away into the gathering mist. –p-

He had followed her, of course. Followed her home, up the tree, right into her room. She hadn't said a word, just smiled and shooshed him when he followed her in. She hadn't asked him to leave, hadn't said she didn't want him there. She simply removed her clothes, with little warning, slipped into a washworn oversized shirt and some boxers, and slipped into bed. When T.J. tried to lie down on the floor, she shook her head and made room for him beside her. That was the last thing he remembered last night.

But here she was, wrapped up in his arms. Sound asleep. Drooling slightly on his arm.

Ew.

Let's try to forget about the fact that she's drooling.

In trying to avoid her spit on his arm, he remembered what they had said between laying down and dreaming.

"We need to rest," she whispered into his chest as she curled closer to him. We need to sleep so we can face the world in the morning…and each other." She looked serious.

"Spin, you're pretty much the only person I can face in the mornings. I hate mornings. They suck," he told her, and she grinned.

"I know you big lug, but this is all going to look different with hangover eyes instead of beer goggles," she told him. "I'm sleeping at your place tonight. Let's roll." After some effort, she managed to stand up, only flashing him a brief view of her underwear, disappointingly enough.

And Spin had been right. She always was. Questions that hadn't even occurred to him last night suddenly flashed through his mind. What if he wasn't good enough for her? What if she hadn't meant it? What if they broke up? How would this affect their friendship? And for the love of all that is holy, what would their friends say?

But then she stirred in his arms, murmuring blearily, "Nggg, dammit Tj! turn off the bloody sun," and pressed her face into his chest. She was wearing one of his tee shirts. It was probably the most perfect thing he'd ever seen. Who cared what anyone thought? They could make this work. They had to. Because there couldn't possibly be anything more important than something that felt this right. His reverie was interrupted when she hit a tiny fist against his chest. "Too bright Teej!" TJ just laughed and covered her head with the comforter.

XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoX

Hours later, she woke up. It was funny to see Spin acting anti-morning, especially since TJ was feeling highly optimistic and bubbly at the moment. "Why are you so damn cheerful this morning, Dorkweiler?" she asked crossly as he made her scrambled eggs with mushroom and potato. "Did you fall on your head last night?"

TJ laughed. "I think you dropped your morning person card on the way home," he teased, dumping the steaming eggs on a plate in front of her. "Hungover doesn't suit you, does it?"

"Shut up," she said quietly, taking a big bite of breakfast. "Just be glad you're a good cook or I'd still be in bed."

"Nobody said you had to get out of bed," he told her serenely. "I just said there was food in it for you if you moved. You were making my fingers fall asleep."

"Was that a fat joke?" she asked in mock-anger.

"Yes, Spin. You're morbidly obese…obviously." TJ just barely managed to dodge the fist flying towards his face. "Damn, you know I'm kidding!" He stood suddenly and pulled her chair back, then threw her over his shoulder, wincing as her strong, bony fists slugged his shoulders.

"Theodore Detweiler, what the hell do you think you're doing? Put me DOWN!" she shouted, writhing and struggling in vain. The only person who had ever gotten the best of her was TJ Detweiler, and he wasn't planning on putting her down just get.

"Don't call me that ASHLEY," he said calmly, carrying her into the living room and dropping her on the couch. He was surprised to see that her face was serious, not laughing or angry. "What's wrong?"

"Last night," she said.

"Yes?" he asked her, concerned. He knew she would fight him on this. It was her nature. But it was his nature to convince people to do what is right, what is good, and this was more than right and good. It was perfect. How could she say no?

"I was drunk," she mumbled, not meeting his eyes. "I was drunk, so it didn't happen. We don't talk about things that happen when I'm drunk."

For a moment, T.J. thought the world was collapsing. His whole plan rode on how right last night had seemed, how right she felt in his arms, how good this really was. But he looked down at her huddled defiantly on the sofa, chin jutting and eyes averted, and he saw how afraid she was. Of what, he could not be sure. But fear didn't visit Spinelli more than once or twice per year, and never without reason.

"We don't?" he asked her gently. "We didn't talk about the things Lawson did to you? We didn't talk about the day you tried to hit me?" She simply shook her head violently. It sounded like she may have muttered "It's different," but T.J. couldn't be sure. "This isn't the first time I've kissed you, Ashley Spinelli, and I'll be damned if it will be the last. Now get your ass in the kitchen and eat your eggs."