A/N: Score. Chapter two. Apologies for the super delayed update. Gah. First chapters are easy, but it's the second and third that always get me. Seriously. I've never actually gotten pst chapter three before. On any story. Let's all hope that this one doesn't mushroom cloud on me either. On another note, this story is now being written for our gang, as my contribution to a memory book type-thing we are putting together. There's 11 of us, and we each get the book for two days. And we write whatever we feel, for up to six pages. Cool, innit? Yes, well. Back to the story.

Points to theflyingcrabsareeatingmyhair for craziest penname. (I mean really, flying crabs eat hair now?) And even more points for her awesomificated review. I'm dedicating chapter two to you, because you are almost the only reason I haven't given up hope on this story.
And also, Sapheneia is awesome, on account of the fact that this chapter would also not be here, if it weren't for her confusion. I re-read the first take of chapter two, and decided that it was left of centre from what I wanted.

Anyway. Have fun reading, and let me know what you think.

Twenty Good Reasons.

Chapter Two: Reason Two.

--

Getting Hera alone is hard. Lily has been trying all day. Quen has been trying all month. He doesn’t have more than two sentences to say to her, yet for some strange reason, he cannot pluck up nearly enough courage to do so. It isn’t really like it’s going to be the hardest thing he’s ever had to say to someone. Been there, done that. He smiles humourlessly to himself. Quen put his mother’s heart back together again after his father left. And after moving to another continent, it still wasn’t whole.

So really, saying three words to some girl shouldn’t really be that hard. Trouble is, Hera isn’t just any girl. And this particular Monday, there are two people who want to get Hera alone.

--

“Hera! Wait up a second,” Lily catches her, after third-period English in the hallway.

“If you’re going to ask me for that second reason, then I’m going to tell you to go away.”

Lily scraps the next question on her mind. “I was actually going to ask you if you’d seen ... Marco.”

Hera raises an eyebrow, and decides to play along. “Marco? What on earth for?”

“Uh...because, uhm, yeah, okay. I got nothing. You wanna tell me your reason anyway?”

“Nope,” Busted. Hera grins contritely, and then adds, “I just haven’t thought of it yet. I haven’t even seen him today.”

“But you’ve had all weekend!” Lily complains, and then quickly closes her mouth as the subject of their discussion comes into view.

“Hey Hera, Lily. All weekend to do what?”

“Nothing important. Lily’s cooked up another scheme to get me to realise some inner feeling or other.”

Quen gives Lily a knowing glance. “Who is it this time?”

Lily’s eyes grow wide. “Uhh... no-one you know.” She knows he can read it on her face. She’s a terrible liar, this always happens. Mentally, her palm connects with her forehead, accompanied by a thwack.

“Of course.” Strangely, Quen says nothing. Perhaps he has something on his mind as well.

Hera rushes to fill the awkward silence, afraid of what Lily might blurt out. “Anybody seen Marco today?” If Quen notices the slight wavering in her voice, he doesn’t show it. Hera’s opinion of his sense of tact goes up several notches, and then falls again on account of the fact that it was probably just ignorance on his part.

“No actually, I haven’t,”admits Quen thoughtfully, as they stroll into English together. “Speak of the Devil,” are his next words, as they find Marco standing on a table. Despite the fact that he is three feet taller, no-one really bats an eyelid. Marco does things like this on a regular basis. So there is normally no need for concern.

“Marco, you twat. Get yourself off the table before you get ... actually, stay there. The punishment is good for you.”

Marco just grins, and flashes Lily a particularly flirtatious wink. She scowls, and stalks off to her seat: she’ll get him back, later.

--

The grinning fool on the table continues to stand there proudly, arms akimbo. “I feel so tall,” he announces, looking down upon the heads of the less fortunate.

“Too bad it’s only a feeling,” Quen remarks innocently.

Meanwhile, Marco’s fragile world has been shattered. ‘Quen! Why must you be so cruel? You’re such a jerk, you know.”

Quen only grins and replies, “Don’t be daft, I’m not a jerk. I’m just ... seizing the moment, really.” Lily cracks a smile in the background, and breaks into fits of unadulterated mirth.

“Why do you always win, no matter how stupid your point is?” Marco whines disconsolately. He flops down as sits cross legged on the desk, arms folded.

Nonchalantly, Quen examines his fingernails. “I suppose it’s just because I’m just incredible like that, and I will have you know that no point I have ever backed has been stupid in the slightest.”

Marco pouts, looking for all the world like a toddler who has had his candy stolen. Lily, who has just managed to gain control of herself, snickers maliciously. Making fun of Marco is, well, fun

Hera laughs and shakes her head. “When I come into power, I’ll make you my minister for argumentation.”

Quen stops, and considers this for a moment. He blanches. “Well there’s a rosy future for us all...” He tries valiantly to keep from shuddering, and fails in the attempt. “Hera, is argumentation even a word to begin with?”

Having learnt that the entire world doesn’t have a bounty on his head – which is actually something that would be rather cool, if it didn’t mean that mercenaries would be out for his blood – Marco comments, “Way to be a man, Hera.”

She shoots both boys matching glares, and sticks her tongue out at Quen. “It is a word, thank you very much. And Marco, as my first official directive as supreme ruler of the Universe, I’ll have you dismembered. Slowly.”

“Well fine. I shall nobly die as a martyr for my cause,” Marco says, holding his head high. With a decidedly supercilious air, he removes his personage from the table, and takes both himself and his bag to the seat next to Quen.

“And what would your cause be, pray tell?” he asks, shooting his friend a sideways look.

From halfway across the room, Lily supplies, “Saving the world from the horrors of personal hygiene and good eating habits, doubtless.”

Marco tips an imaginary hat at Lily. “Exactly.”

Lily rolls her eyes, and mutters something about insufferable halfwits ruining her day. She turns to Hera, and grins slyly. “Her-ra,” she sings, “Reason number two...”

Hera sighs. “Okay, fine.” She taps her fingers on the desk, thinking. After several moments of serious thought, she says, “I promised myself a long time ago, that I would never, ever let another guy do that to me again.”

“Do what?” Lily inquires, without thinking.

“Don’t play stupid. You know exactly what,” Hera accuses, suddenly angry.

“Oh. That. Um, Hera? You need a reality check. That happened four years ago. And trust me; there aren’t that many Nicky Carson jerks out there.” Lily is very tempted to get out of her seat and start screaming, but figures that it mightn’t be wise, especially since their teacher had just shown up.

“I don’t care. No boy is worth the aggravation,” she hisses, and throws herself into understanding the tragic plight of Desdemona, as her valiant efforts to talk sense into her husband fail.

“Hera, who do you really think you’re kidding? Quen is earth and heaven to you. See? You’re smiling. I can see right through you, and I know who you’re thinking of,” Lily accuses, the tiniest bit of triumph sneaking into her voice.

“Lily. For one, I was smiling because of the ‘earth and heaven to you’ nonsense that you’re spouting. Shakespeare is getting to you. Second, I’ve won the prize for rotten judgement with guys about seven times over. Nicky was a mistake. I know. And I’m not going to make it again anytime soon. Especially with Quen. What if the same thing happens again? It’s too cliché. Just like Nick.”

“Hera. Not every guy is a two-timing heartbreaking loser,” Lily feels like she’s going to lose this battle.

“But look at Othello,” Hera objects, “He strangles his wife because he thinks she’s cheating. I made Nicky’s nose bleed. Lily, I felt like I wanted to kill him.”

“I know.” It’s a testament to their friendship that those two words mean so much. Lily knows that she isn’t going to get Hera to talk about it anymore, and instead settles down to writing about ill-fated Desdemona.

--

Quen grins to himself, as he and Marco trudge through the leaf-litter. It’s autumn now, and the grass is afire with leaves turned mottled crimson and russet gold.

‘What’re you grinning at?” Marco asks sullenly. Today hadn’t really been the best of days for him, after Lily had beaten him spectacularly, out shooting him twenty-three to five. Betrayed by his own basketball. It was very nearly too tragic to comprehend.

“Cheer up, Marco. Getting beaten by Lily isn’t really that bad. She’s actually rather good, come to think of it.” Quen’s attempts at making his friend feel better fail dismally, and Quen isn’t really sure if he’s doing it by accident. It’s a rare thing, to see the normally infallible Marco so gloomy.

“You aren’t helping. Jerk.” Marco grumbles, and scuffs the pavement with his foot.

“True. But I do know something that will lift your decidedly low spirits.” It’s incredible to watch, really. Marco’s ears prick up, and his face is now etches with curiosity.

“Oh? And just what might that be?”

Allowing himself a pat on the back, Quen murmurs, “I have reason two.”

The effect on Marco is instantaneous. “Really? What is it?”

“Well, Hera’s sense of humour is almost exactly the same as mine.” Quen allows himself to feel slightly chuffed. It is a pretty good reason to fancy someone, after all. And Hera did have a nice-sounding laugh.

“Your reasons suck.”

The statement hits him like a hammer blow to the back of the head. “What? Why? They’re perfectly alright to me. They make sense, too. Unlike half the harebrained things one might find you attempting.”

“I’m just saying, you haven’t really come up with anything earth-shattering yet.”

“Well then. I’m sorry that I don’t meet your earth-shattering requirements. Though I suppose it can be expected. After all, you don’t exactly meet requirements yourself...”

“I’m going to get you for that.”

“Of course you are.”