Reese settled herself on Morgan's comforter. "So what's this I hear about you and Quinn?"

Annoyed, Morgan looked up from her chair on the other side of the room where she was reading. The book remained poised at its original height. "You didn't hear anything about us, because there is nothing to hear." She promptly returned her attention to her text.

"Iago said you said you'd give him a chance," Reese persisted. "Can I invite him to dinner?"

With a sigh, Morgan shut her book. "No, you cannot invite him to dinner. When I said I'd 'give him a chance,' that meant I will be civil on the off-chance that we have any future interactions. It did not mean that I will be actively pursuing him."

"God, Morgan, you're so boring sometimes."

Morgan made a face at her. "I like boring, thank you very much."

Throwing herself back against the bed, Reese burst into laughter. "You are such a liar."

Calmly, Morgan waited for her to subside. When she had quieted to giggles, Morgan asked, "Are you finished yet?"

"Okay, so no dinner," Reese said instead of answering. "We could always have a porn party instead."

Morgan blinked at her. "Did you just suggest that we get together and watch porn? Honestly?"

Propping herself on her elbows, Reese made a show of rolling her eyes. "No, silly. I suggested a porn party. Remember when Amanda had hers last year? Oh, wait, you were in Tampa visiting that friend of yours from high school. Never mind."

Silently, Morgan waited for her to continue with her explanation.

When Reese finally realized that Morgan wasn't going to say anything, she clarified. "Amanda Phillip's porn party meant that when you got to her place, you were given a series of tasks you had to complete. Like, for example, there was the kissing booth, and the provocative pose – you should see how many future lawyers we've got immortalized in compromising positions – and the body shots… You'd be fantastic at that one. I'll never forget the lap dance Amanda gave to Tasha Jenkins after drinking half a bottle of tequila. I swear my eyeballs hurt for weeks."

Morgan considered this. "And you want to invite this disaster-waiting-to-happen on our apartment?"

"How did you not hear about this last year?" Reese wondered.

"Extreme good fortune on my part?"

Reese frowned. "Cute, Morgan."

"I am not having a porn party." Morgan made sure that her voice sounded very firm and brooked no argument. Reese sometimes seemed to have a problem understanding the word, "no."

And true to form, she grinned at Morgan and said, "No, you're not. I am."

"My mistake," Morgan answered dryly. "We are not having a porn party."

Heaving a disgusted sigh, Reese hopped off the bed. "I knew you wouldn't let me. But I bet Angie will."

And before Morgan could protest, she scampered out of the room, presumably toward her cell so that she could inform Angie of her latest and most nefarious plan yet. Hopefully Angie would have the good sense to say, "no," Morgan thought. Though, knowing Angie, that was doubtful.

With a sigh, she picked up her book and resumed edifying herself on the role of women in the misogynistic passage of history. She should have been more discriminating in picking her gender/race/minority requirement. She'd sadly not learned anything she didn't already know.

She managed to get through ten pages before the door burst open again. "Angie said she'd do it!" Reese crowed triumphantly.

"I'm not helping," Morgan responded. She kept her face glued to her book in the hopes that Reese would get the hint.

No such luck. Reese plopped herself back on Morgan's bed. "I have the perfect outfit for you to wear," she announced instead. "Quinn will love it."

"All the more reason not to wear it. Go away, Reese."

"You're not listening," she whined.

"I'm trying to study," Morgan retorted. "It's not even the end of the weekend and you're already plotting awful things for the one that's coming. Of course I'm not listening."

Reese leaned forward and plucked the book out of her hand. "Morgan, listen. You're only young once. Pretty soon you'll have gained ten pounds, acquired wrinkles, and your breasts will be sagging. Quinn is attractive, and he likes you. Take advantage of it."

Morgan made a half-hearted lunge for her book. "If I told you I didn't like Chinese, would you make me go back to the buffet?"

"No, because I know you'd be lying," she responded cheerfully.

"It was an analogy," Morgan sighed. "I don't think I'll even go."

Reese looked horrified. "Not go? Who are you and what did you do with my roommate?"

"Can I have my book back please?"

A devious light crept into Reese's eyes. "Only after you promise you'll come to the party. In the outfit I picked out."

Morgan snorted. "You're pushing your luck. You should have stopped at 'you'll come to the party.' As I recall, I have several outfits you just talked me into that would work well in a bordello."

Reese stared blankly at her. "A what?"

Morgan resisted the urge to beat her head against a wall. "A whorehouse, Reese."

Rolling her eyes, Reese said, "It's a party, not a business venture. What do prostitutes have to do with it?"

"Other than the fact that I'll look like one if I let you dress me?"

Reese scoffed. "I'd never let you wear something you didn't look good in."

"And that, my dear, is exactly what I'm afraid of." She successfully pounced on her book while Reese was distracted, plucking it out of her roommate's loose grasp. "Now if you don't mind, terrorism as a resistance to despotism and the disassociative characteristics of those who practice it."

"You're so weird, Morgan. Why do you take classes like that?"

"The same reason you tortured yourself with that pathology class last year. I thought it would be fun."

"I had to take that pathology classes."

Morgan just looked at her.

"Oh." Reese pushed herself off the bed. "Well, whatever. Don't make plans for Friday." With a decidedly sinister smile, she wandered out of the room.

Forty-five more pages, Morgan thought. Hopefully she'd get through it uninterrupted.

---

The next day was Monday and brought the bulk of Morgan's classes. Normally that wouldn't mean good things, but all three of the classes were Monday-only classes. She was usually exhausted by the end of the day, but scheduling herself this way meant that she had Wednesday and Friday completely free, and only two classes on Tuesday and Thursday. She even got to sleep in most days.

Her first class was current events, a subject she didn't quite love, but could normally tolerate. The course had sounded interesting when she'd read its description online, and it might have been, if only someone else was teaching it.

When she entered the classroom, she was surprised to see Genna Jones already lounging unhappily in her seat. She checked her watch and wondered what was wrong.

"Hey, Gen," she greeted. "What are you doing here?"

"Morning, Morgan."

Morgan waited, but no other information was forthcoming. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, peachy," Genna said. "I met this guy Matt this weekend. He referred to me as 'that girl who always walks in halfway through class.' It pissed me off."

"And so you decided to turn over a new leaf?"

A quick grin flashed across Genna's face. "For the moment. I give it about a week."

Morgan hid a smile of her own. This was the third course she'd had with Genna in the last three years and only the second time she'd seen her show up before the class actually started. Higgins was going to have a coronary when he walked in.

"You're all good then?" she asked. She hesitated a moment. "How's Chad?"

"Oh, you know," Genna gestured vaguely, "hopefully dead."

The guy sitting to Morgan's left blinked at her while Morgan suppressed another grin. "I meant, how are you dealing?"

"I'll live," she shrugged. "I talked to him last night just to remind myself what a jerk he is. It worked miracles for my perception of our relationship."

"Meaning…?"

"Meaning I'm over it."

Morgan didn't quite believe her, but she was saved from saying anything else when Professor Higgins walked in He was short, portly, and when he saw Genna sitting quietly in her seat, his face turned seven different shades of purple.

"What are you doing here?" he barked.

Genna beamed innocently at him. "Class started two minutes ago, did it not?"

"Out," he said. "Get out of my classroom."

"Oh, I get it. You're demonstrating some of the concepts in the book."

Morgan buried her face in her hands and tried not to burst into laughter. Some of the other students were not as successful. Normally when Genna waltzed in halfway through class, Higgins made some desultory comment before she sat, but nothing else. He saved that for when she started talking.

Apparently he didn't know how to react to her being on time. "Ms. Jones—" he stopped and looked around the half-empty classroom. "How many of you read the assignment?"

Half the class raised a hand, or some semblance thereof.

His expression soured. "Get in groups. Discuss. I want a five page paper on your reactions next class period."

Genna rearranged her desk so that it faced Morgan's without asking if she wanted to work together. "Well, this is the first time I've disrupted class so much that the prof couldn't even teach," she stated cheerfully. "The only downside is that we have to do a paper on this crap."

Another student Morgan didn't know pulled up a chair. "Mind if I work with you?"

Looking up, Genna raised an eyebrow. "Oh. You."

"Nice to see you, too," he responded dryly. Turning to Morgan, he held out a hand. "I'm Matt."

"You two know each other?"

"She's letting me take her on a date," Matt volunteered. "If I behave myself, she promised not to castrate me."

Morgan slid a glance at Genna out of the corner of her eye. She was blushing. "Charming."

Matt grinned. "I thought so, too."

"At least I was being honest," Genna grumbled. She fiddled with the corners of her book. "So about this section…"

A flurry of activity ensued while Morgan and Matt flipped through the chapters and located the proper page. Matt's copy was dog-eared and covered in illegible scribble. He squinted down at the writing. "Okay, so stem cell research, right?"

"Stem cell research, it is," Morgan confirmed.

Another chair scraped across the floor, and then Patricia Somners, one of the other students in the class smiled sweetly at them. "Dr. Higgins told me to work with you," she said.

Morgan almost choked. Genna merely looked stoic, flipping the page and turning to face Matt and Morgan, who was sure it was no coincidence that she almost had her back to Patricia.

"We've all done the reading?" Everyone nodded. "Thoughts?"

Matt and Morgan looked at each other, then at Patricia, but she was simply smirking. Finally, Morgan spoke up. "I'm not really sure what we're supposed to talk about. Ethics?"

They all looked at Patricia again. She was puffing up self-importantly. "There wouldn't be much to talk about then, would there? Stem cell research is unethical. Period."

Matt and Morgan's heads swung back to look at Genna, who was already grinding her teeth. "And how do you figure that?" she asked.

Patricia blinked. "It's killing babies."

"First of all," Genna said, "it's a cell culture, not a baby. Therefore, you're not really killing it. Second, most embryos that aren't used for stem cell research end up thrown away anyway. Third, it has the potential to cure things like Parkinson's disease, cancer, and hearing loss. Fourth—"

"How can you say it's a cell culture and not a baby?" Patricia interrupted.

Genna looked amused. "Because it was created in a test tube?"

Hesitantly, Morgan spoke up. "I kind of have to agree with her," she said. "It does have the potential to become a baby."

Matt sank lower in his chair.

"I know what you're saying, Mo, really, but—"

"Ms. Jones," Higgins thundered, cutting her off in the middle of her sentence. "Please respect other people's opinions."

That shut them all up, and for a moment Genna just blinked at him. She recovered quickly. "Besides yours, whose opinion do I not respect?"

Patricia was back to smirking.

Higgins scowled at her. "Respect your elders as well," he thundered. The rest of the class stopped "debating" and turned to watch them.

Genna seemed to consider this for a minute. "Unfortunately for you, in America, respect has to be earned. You don't just get it because you're older than I am. All that means is that you have less reason to be so close-minded and misguided."

The class collectively held its breath.

Higgins glared at her. "Being a liberal does not a tolerant person make. I'm sure when we talk about prayer in schools next class period, you will no doubt be loudly railing against it."

"Actually, you're wrong," Genna said with a tight smile. "I not only advocate prayer in schools, but I'm also all for compulsory religious education of all denominations."

Now it was Higgins' turn to stare at her in astonishment. "Excuse me?"

"It's all about choice," Genna answered coolly. "And exposure. When you're exposed to other cultures, the uncertainty level goes down and it's much harder to demonize them."

"And what does that have to do with—" Higgins started.

She continued as if he hadn't spoken, talking over him. "That aside, some countries in Europe have compulsory religious education and their tolerance level far outweighs ours. It's easy to cite differences, stereotype, and generalize when you don't really know anything about the other culture except what popular myth tells you. And as for prayer in schools –"

Morgan and Matt watched quietly while Higgins seemed too stunned to know what to say.

Genna shrugged. "Really, when you get right down to it, that's about choice, too. It's not violating anyone's rights to start the morning or end the day with a short time period where a student can pray if they feel the need, reflect on the day or an issue, or just simply relax for a few minutes. I mean, no one is telling them what they have to do, and despite what they claim might be 'implied,' it's not hurting anyone."

Higgins' mouth worked, but nothing came out.

"Right on," Matt nodded. Even Patricia couldn't find anything to say.

Higgins shut his mouth abruptly. "We'll continue that discussion next Monday. Class dismissed."

The immediate scraping of chairs and books resounded through the classroom as people turned their desks back into place and hurried out of the room before he could change his mind.

Morgan turned to Genna, and keeping her voice low, congratulated her. "Impressive, Genna. You should show up on time more often. Keeps things interesting."

"I'll say," Matt agreed. "Usually you piss him off by disagreeing with him – this was a brilliant change of tactics."

"I do my best."

"We know," Morgan grinned, picking up her bookbag and slinging it over her shoulder. "So where are you guys headed off to during this unexpected boon of free time?"

Matt and Genna looked at each other. "Coffee?" he asked.

"Oh, so you got one out of me after all," she teased. She turned look at Morgan. "Want to come?"

"Oh, I don't want to interrupt," Morgan hedged.

Matt rolled his eyes. "You won't be interrupting. After strenuous negotiations, it was determined that I'm allowed to take her out to dinner, but coffee doesn't count."

"High maintenance, Gen." She laughed and started to walk out of the classroom. "I'll join you two then. Which coffee shop?"

"Jay's," Matt and Genna answered simultaneously. They fell into step beside her, Genna blushing again and Matt looking quite pleased with himself.

Morgan watched them curiously. "So how did you guys…?"

"He was working," Genna said. "I had the misfortune of running into him. It took him fifteen minutes to give me my change."

Raising an eyebrow, Morgan waited patiently. Strangely, Genna didn't seem upset by this.

"She later told me I was lucky she couldn't find any comment cards," Matt added. "But I gave her my number under the assumption that she'd later use it when performing voodoo – ow!"

Genna laughed. "Sorry, but you deserved that one."

He grinned back unrepentantly while Morgan watched in amazement. Genna had never – never —been this relaxed with her ex-boyfriend Chad. Instead it had been constant drama. This was something else entirely, although Morgan wasn't quite sure what.

"Freaky," she said. They meandered slowly through the quad toward Jay's. Morgan kept a watchful eye on the guys playing football in the middle of the grassy area as a precautionary measure. Having been tackled once in a fit of over zealousness, she wasn't eager to repeat the experiment.

They reached the coffee shop surprisingly without incident, and Morgan was thrilled to find that they had a new Dulce de Leche coffee flavoring that she eagerly added to her latte. It was a tad on the sweet side, but so good. They'd just sat down at a table when she heard someone calling her name.

"Morgan! Mo!"

She looked up to see Braden waving frantically at her from across the café. Waving back, she briefly contemplated getting up to see what he wanted. Oh, hell, if he really wanted to talk to her, he'd come over.

It took him another five minutes to realize that, during which time she realized she really liked Matt, and that he really liked Genna, which worked out perfectly. Morgan was excited for them, but a part of her couldn't help but feel wistful, and, truth be told, just a little, teensy, tiny bit jealous.

But then, this was normal. Genna, Mika, Reese – they all found people who worshipped the ground they walked on. Morgan? She was the type they tried to get a one-night stand out of. They rarely succeeded, but it didn't change anything. She wasn't the type of girl guys chased.

When she glanced away from what she could tell was a soon-to-be couple, she saw Braden finally pushing his way over to her table. "Morgan!" he rumbled again.

"Yes, Braden?"

He was frowning darkly at her, which she surmised was due to the fact that she'd neglected to answer his beck and call. Maybe that was why she couldn't get a decent date. When he finally reached the table, his expression cleared, excitement clouding his eyes.

"Friday, Mo!"

Ah, yes, the porn party. She pretended ignorance anyway. "What about it?"

"You're going to get some ass?"

She cringed. "Okay, that was so not what I was going for. Let's try this again. What's exciting about Friday?"

He finally calmed down enough to speak in complete sentences. "Angie and Devon are having a porn party! Do you remember last year's?!"

"If you're referring to the girl-on-girl action, no, luckily I missed the whole thing because I was in Florida, laying on the beach and drinking piña coladas out of real coconuts." She stuck her tongue out at him. "However, I've heard about it enough times that I might as well have been there. I also saw some pretty horrendously scary pictures."

"They were tragic," he agreed. He finally seemed to notice that she was sitting with other people. "Hey, man, I'm Braden."

Taking the proffered hand, Matt nodded at him. "Matt."

"Genna." Morgan watched in amusement as he placed a gallant kiss on the back of her wrist. "So lovely to meet you."

"Yeah, yeah, you, too." He looked at them, considering, and apparently determined that they were a couple. "Do you guys want to come?"

Genna looked a tad less than thrilled. "You know, porn is something I generally watch in the privacy of my bedroom—"

Matt perked up. "Do you really?"

She flashed him a coy smile. "If you behave, maybe you'll find out."

Braden was watching them in fascination. "You're hot," he told her bluntly, "but we're not going to watch porn. We're going to make it." He glanced at Morgan's face and saw the warning there. "Er, just kidding. It will be PG. Mostly. We just call it a porn party."

Matt and Genna exchanged amused glances. "And what makes it a porn party, exactly?"

Looking confused, Braden suggested, "It sounds fun?"

"We'll think about it," Matt said, and when Morgan looked disappointed, he backtracked quickly. "We'll probably be there."

"Right. I need to borrow Morgan. Nice to meet you." And without so much as a apology, he picked up her back pack, handed her her coffee, and dragged her away from the table. She called hurried goodbyes over her shoulder as they went.

When they finally stopped, she yanked his hand out of his grasp and glared. "Okay, what?"

He snatched her into a quick hug and almost slipped her steaming coffee all over both of them. "My little girl's all grown up!"

"Okay, you're scaring me," she said.

"Iago told me that you agreed to give Carter a chance-"

"Good god, what is with you people?" Morgan demanded. "I just meant I wasn't going to forcibly remove any vital parts if we happened to interact and he happened to piss me off. The lot of you act like we're planning a quaint little wedding. Is that what you dragged me out here for?"

He grinned at her. "No, that was just a cover. But I really am proud of you." He glanced at her slyly. "So what's up with all the protesting? Were you abused as a child? Forced into a labor camp? Made to toil as a child prostitute?"

She rolled her eyes. "Indulge your sick fantasies elsewhere, Braden. I'm not playing."

He grinned impishly at her. "Hey, I got to use the word, 'toil,' in a sentence. I'm happy. Seriously, though, why are you always so distrusting? Not all of us have nefarious intentions, you know."

She squinted at him. "Braden, did someone give you a vocabulary list and tell you you had to use them all by the end of the day? Did you have to look them up first?"

"Don't change the subject."

"Nefarious?"

He shrugged. "It seemed to go hand in hand with 'Carter.'"

Shaking her head, she questioned, "You said it was just a cover…?"

"Oh, Devon needs to know where to get flowers for Angie. He forgot that their anniversary was today." He tugged her in the direction of the main road. "We have to get her something she'll like."

"So much for 'Devon getting her flowers.' What would you have done if you hadn't run into me?"

"I was waiting until your class was over at eleven, then I was going to call. You just saved me the trouble."

"Lucky you."

He grinned down at her. "I know. And while we're out, you can help me pick out an outfit for Friday. I'm thinking leather and chains, maybe?"

Her mouth curved. "I bet you'd look fantastic on a leash. I'm trying not to think about it, though, because it feels vaguely incestuous."

Wrapping his arm around her waist, he guided her into a flower shop next to campus. "Strike that thought from your mind. What if we were the last two people on earth and the world's fate fell on our shoulders?"

She stopped in front of some gorgeous calla lilies. "That's too much of a cliché to even consider. And Angie likes these."

Braden looked at the price tag. "Perfect. Serves Devon right for not doing his own dirty work. Can you think of something expensive to put with them?"

Her answering grin was wicked. "Let's go find out."

Friday was something she'd worry about later, when she actually had to deal with it.

---

So it's only been a month and a half instead of two months. I'm improving. Yay.

I don't know where Genna came from or how she popped up in DésEn, but she's got her own story called Current Events, which is currently a one shot and might have a companion one shot later if I ever get around to it. This is doubtful.

In the meantime, the party's coming up, and Quinn and Morgan will have fun… But I still have to write it, and that might take awhile. We'll see.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I am being such a lazy bitch today. Sorry, all.

-K