Time After Time - Degrassi, PG-13

Spoilers for season 8 up to 804 and the "Curse of Degrassi" special (sort of). Written for aphrodite_mine.

Jane didn't flinch at Holly J.'s offensive comment. She wasn't one to succumb to stereotypes, and besides, she was happy with Spinner—he was a great guy who really cared about her. He protected her. He came to her defense when things got rough. She wasn't here to start any sort of social movement, really—she just wanted to play football, and she knew all along that she was as good as the guys. She could play as hard and dirty as the rest of them. Harder, even. Dirtier.

During games, Jane scanned the crowd for Spinner's eyes, his encouraging smile. She just needed a glimpse of him, and then she could regain focus, running even faster than before, holding the ball tighter, throwing it harder. When she was really in the zone, nothing could disrupt her concentration. The Power Squad might be jumping and screaming only a few feet away, reciting whatever ridiculous rhymes they had written out the night before, but Jane hardly noticed.

It wasn't Spinner's fault when he was out of town and missed that one game, which just happened to the one where Jane scored the winning touchdown. She had no eyes or smile to find in the crowd, so she sought Mia's instead. It would have been impossible to miss how brightly her former best friend was beaming. And hey, "former best" didn't even really apply anymore. They were friendly again. Sort of. Which is why Jane thought nothing of it—really—when Mia enveloped her in a hug and shouted in her ear, over the chaos of the crowd, "We should do something tonight to celebrate." Because Mia was right; they should.

So they had a celebratory dinner and dessert and Jane figured it was only polite to invite Mia back to her house to watch a movie, "Like old times." Mia enthusiastically agreed and, fifteen minutes later, Jane was browsing her DVD collection for the perfect flick and Mia was sitting cross-legged on her bed, examining the dozens of photos on her wall and reminiscing. Jane sat beside her when she decided on the movie and pressed play, but somehow the night turned out to be more like old times than they had originally planned—or at least, more like that one time in grade eight when they got drunk and made out on a dare.

It was, however, a welcome diversion from old times for Mia. She was used to partaking in sinful acts in Jane's bed, but previously could only imagine that she was kissing Jane instead of Jane's brother. And now she actually was. Jane, who was so used to playing rough—tighter, faster, harder—found that Mia's embrace calmed her down. She wanted to go slowly. Gently. She wanted to appreciate every minute.

But, like old times, Mia wasn't the type to wait around, and Jane was too stubborn to admit when something was right. Or in this case, someone—and about her. (A budding lesbian indeed.) She pulled away and told Mia to leave, and that she was sorry, but this meant nothing. Because she was in love with Spinner, she said, and although she knew how stupid those words sounded, and although Jane could tell that Mia knew she was lying, the truth would have been impossible to admit.

"You're not so different from the guys after all," Mia told her, and Jane didn't dare to look up as she walked out the door. And in the tradition of reliving the past, Mia didn't feel too bad about participating in some potentially destructive behavior, which apparently involved a wild party with alcohol and loud music and grinding up on an equally intoxicated Holly J., and it certainly was not like old times at all.

"This," Holly J. said right afterwards, "never happened."

"What? You don't want people to know you finally swiped your V-card? But Holly J., I thought that's what you wanted." Mia was surprised by how cruel she could still be to this girl she hated so much, even when they most certainly had just had sex.

"Be glad there's no chance you'll get pregnant this time, Mama Mia," Holly J. sneered, pulling her shirt over her head and gathering her things. "And if anyone finds out about this, I'll make your life hell." Her clothes were back on and she was on her way downstairs to join the party again before Mia could form a response.

Within minutes, though, Holly J. realized that the party was absolutely the last place on earth that she wanted to be right now, so she went home to her own bedroom and sat on her own virginal bed, reaching under her pillow for that infamous list, the one with every guy's name crossed out because none of them were good enough. Was that it?, she wondered. Was it because they were guys?

Back at school on Monday, she surprised herself by being nicer to everyone, especially Mia. Maybe it was the fear that her secret would come out. But Mia actually kept her end of the bargain. And life returned to normal—kind of. Except this reformed, nicer Holly J. actually felt sympathetic when she walked into the girl's locker room during lunch to take a shower and found Jane sitting alone on the bench, sobbing.

Holly J. hadn't meant to ask what was wrong, but she did, and found out that Jane had been dumped by Spinner because he found out that she cheated on him. Holly J. certainly never intended to sit beside her and rub her back and say, "It's going to be okay," but she did. And she definitely never expected that Jane would respond by pressing her lips to hers, but she did, and Holly J. kissed her back, surprised by how rough and urgent the other girl felt against her. They were already breathing hard when they pulled away a few moments later.

"I think I just hit a new low," Jane said, making a face.

Suddenly insulted, Holly J. warned, "You better not tell anyone about this."

Jane rolled her eyes. "Trust me, I don't want anyone to know either."

Her words stung briefly, but later, Holly J. couldn't help smiling as she walked through the halls—locking eyes with Jane and Mia, all three newly aware of the connection they shared. She wondered if it would really be so bad if people found out, and if it made any difference. She wondered if she might be budding too. Maybe they all were.

Floating - RPFS (Demi/Meaghan), R

Written for aphrodite_mine for her birthday. :)

Demi spotted her almost immediately—which would have been meaningful, she thought, if she hadn't been actively scanning the set for that hair, those eyes, that smile from the moment she arrived. And she had to stop herself from sucking in her breath, from blushing, from doing anything that might get her into trouble like it had over the summer.

"So... what... exactly... are you trying to tell me?" Selena asked, and with every pause Demi could feel her heart being suffocated.

"Forget it," she said, and laughed. "I don't even know, really."

"Okay," Selena said, and they never mentioned it after that.

But looking at Meaghan made her feel it all over again. Free. As if she were floating. Demi remembered spotting her across the room when she went to the audition. (It was impossible not to see her, after all. Her beauty seemed to radiate.) And she had to command herself to stop looking, to stop wondering how soft her hair was, or how soft her lips were, or how sweet her mouth might taste... and then the casting director had called her name and she disappeared. Meaghan. Meaghan. It was all Demi knew about her, and truthfully, she never made any attempts to find out anything else. She had other things on her mind, which was what she tried to tell Selena that rainy night in July—

"I don't know if I could ever have a real boyfriend, you know?" Selena shook her head. "It's just, um... I think I like girls more," and the words slurred together when she said it and Demi cringed because it wasn't even true; it was such an understatement. And Selena obviously didn't want any part of it, so they spent the rest of the summer avoiding the topic.

But summer was over now, Demi reasoned, and she lifted her eyes just in time to catch Meaghan's, whose whole face brightened in a way that seemed to Demi to say more than just hey-I-recognize-you. Maybe hey-I-remember-you, or hey-I've-been-thinking-about-you, or hey-I-think-you're-pretty-and-I'd-like-to-know-you-better, or...

"Hey!" Meaghan said, and nothing followed it.

Demi grinned. "Hey. I remember you." (Understatement, again.)

"Yeah, you too." She laughed. I'm Meaghan," she added, and surprised Demi with a hug, and it was one of those good hugs, the kind that stays with you all day, and Demi could feel the softness of Meaghan's hair against her cheek and smell whatever fruity body splash she was wearing and feel every curve of the other girl's body pressed against her own, for just a moment. "So who are you?" Meaghan asked when they separated.

"What?" Demi laughed nervously. "Um, Demi. Demi Lovato."

Meaghan giggled and rolled her eyes. "I know who you are." Demi's stomach lurched for a moment—had Meaghan been asking about her?—and then she added, "I've seen your show. I meant, which part did you get?"

"Oh! Right. Mitchie. I'm playing Mitchie."

"Oh my god, that's awesome! I'm playing Tess. We're going to have a lot of scenes together. And"—she pointed to a trailer not far from where they stood—"we're sharing a dressing room too."

Demi stared dumbly at the trailer. "That's... that's awesome," was all she could think to say.

"Let's hope we don't end up hating each other like our characters," Meaghan teased.

"You know, I have a good feeling that that won't happen," Demi said, smiling, and she realized at that moment that she was probably flirting.

But Meaghan smiled back. Whatever they were doing, she didn't seem to mind.

They grew much closer in the weeks to follow, and it seemed the more Demi hoped her ridiculous crush would just go away already, it only got worse. It probably didn't help that she saw her costar in just a bra and panties on a daily basis. Meaghan wasn't very modest—Demi liked that about her. She liked everything about her, really.

"What's this?" Meaghan asked one day, snatching a necklace from the top of Demi's bureau. She looked a little more closely and laughed. "Oh, you have one of these too? Is this a requirement for working for Disney now?" She waved the promise ring in the air.

Demi blushed. "Um... Selena gave it to me, actually, after she got hers. I don't usually wear it," she added, wondering how defensive she sounded.

Meaghan put the necklace down and asked abruptly, "So, do you really think you're going to 'wait till marriage'?" She put air quotes on the final three words.

"I... don't know," Demi said honestly. "I don't know if I even want to get married."

"But don't you want to be pure and perfect for your husband on your wedding day?" Meaghan grinned.

"I'm not a pure and perfect type of girl," Demi responded, watching Meaghan carefully, trying to see if she could find a sign of something, anything, in her reaction.

Meaghan held her gaze, unflinching, and then her cell phone rang, signalling the end of whatever this might have been.

Most days were pretty mundane.

But one day, Meaghan burst into their shared trailer practically glowing, grinning so widely that her face seemed to be frozen in a state of eternal elation. "Party tonight!" she nearly shrieked. "Finally."

"What? Here?"

"Yeah. I just talked to Kevin. He bought all the beer and got us a hotel room. A suite, actually." Meaghan fussed with her hair in the mirror. "Oh my god, you don't know how happy this makes me. I need a release."

"But how did he..." Demi began.

"Stop asking questions!" Meaghan said. "Seriously, for someone who swore to me that she's not pure and perfect..." she turned to Demi and grinned. "It's going to be fine. Don't worry, no one at Disney is going to find out."

Demi wasn't about to say that Disney was the least of her concerns.

They helped each other pick out their outfits, as if they were going to some fancy gala instead of an impromptu party with a couple dozen underage cast members. It didn't make too much difference to Demi, really—it's not like she ever wore dresses. But Meaghan did, and this one seemed impossibly small and tight and clung to her in all the right spots and holy crap she could not stop staring.

Meaghan noticed. "I look pretty hot, don't I?" She giggled and Demi almost resented her because this was torture, seriously, and she would now have to spend the whole evening pretending it wasn't.

Once they got to the party, Meaghan's outfit seemed pretty silly. Mostly everyone else was dressed casually and weather-appropriately, and a number of jaws dropped when the girls entered the room. Meaghan owned it, though, greeting everyone with a curtsey and promptly asking for a beer. Demi watched in awe. Seconds later, Meaghan shoved a can in Demi's hand too. "This," she said seriously, "will make all your worries disappear."

A few beers later, Demi felt somewhat drunk and Meaghan, apparently, was already wasted. "Lessee what the guys're doing," she slurred, grabbing Demi's hand and pulling her over to the dining table, where they were apparently playing some kind of drinking game involving cards that was clearly too complicated for the girls in their inebriated states of mind. Meaghan sat down and patted the seat of the chair next to her.

"Meaghan, I don't think we can play," Demi said, laughing, but she sat down anyway.

"Whatcha guys doing?" Meaghan asked loudly, and no one bothered to answer. She leaned close to Demi and whispered, "I dun think they like me very much." Her lips just barely grazed Demi's earlobe and she shivered at the contact.

They sat for a bit in silence, the alcohol having mellowed them out. Demi wasn't sure how long they had been sitting before Meaghan grabbed her hand and placed it on the skirt of her dress. "I was stupid to wear such thin material," she said, sounding a bit more coherent now. "See how thin that is?"

"Um," Demi said, trying to ignore how hard her heart was beating. "Yeah. But... it's, um, a really nice dress." She didn't dare move her hand from Meaghan's thigh. She wondered how long she'd be allowed to keep it there.

"I was stupid," Meaghan repeated, and they fell silent again. Demi wondered if maybe she was cold, but then again, she didn't feel cold—she felt, actually, warm. And nice, really nice. Demi could feel her face flush as she realized that a similar heat was forming between her own legs, and she still didn't dare to move her hand.

As if she were reading her mind, Meaghan leaned close and whispered, "I'm really horny right now. If I don't make out with someone I might die." At that, Demi was positive her face turned bright red, but before she could think of anything to say, Meaghan added, "Your hand is on my thigh."

"I know," Demi whispered back. Something—the alcohol in her system, or plain old stupidity—convinced her that it would be a good idea to clarify, "I like it there." Immediately, she cringed. Of course, she had to go and say something completely idiotic. She braced herself, but then Meaghan surprised her.

"I prefer it here," she whispered, and pulled away the fabric of the dress so Demi was touching only skin. Fearfully, she looked up at the guys, but they were too immersed in their game to notice what was happening.

What was happening? Demi tightened her grip on Meaghan's leg. "What, um, do you want me to do?" she asked softly.

Meaghan brought her mouth so close to Demi's ear that at first she felt only her breath. "Touch me," she whispered.

Demi couldn't move for a moment, wanting to preserve this moment exactly as it was so she would never forget, and then thinking—the hell with it. She slid her hand slowly across Meaghan's smooth skin, trying to keep her touch as light as possible until she reached the fabric of her panties. Which were damp. She pressed and rubbed small circles and could feel her fingers getting sticky, and Meaghan whimpered, and then—Demi pulled away.

"I can't," she said, standing up.

"No, no, no..." Meaghan cried, reaching for her in desperation. Demi had already left the room and was pacing down the hallway when Meaghan caught up with her. "Demi! I'm sorry. I just, I had this feeling that you wanted to, and I wanted you to, and—I mean, why do you think I pretended to be so drunk? Why do you think I wore this dress?"

"I would have liked to kiss you first!" Demi nearly shouted. "I've never even kissed a girl."

"So... kiss me," Meaghan said. "That is, if you still want to..."

Suddenly it registered. "You wore that dress for me?" Demi whispered. Meaghan started to nod, but was interrupted by Demi's lips on hers, and hands on hips and fingers in hair and tongues tasting the insides of mouths.

"I think, maybe, we need to get a room," Meaghan said finally, giggling, but since they were too young to get one in the hotel, they held hands and walked back to the dressing room they shared, mutually undressing and discovering each other in the dark, not stopping until they felt they were floating. Free.