Eric called Cory's cell phone and thought about how much he missed answering machines. If Cory and Shawn had a landline and an answering machine this call would have some comedic potential. Okay, fine, maybe not high situational comedy, but a good joke somewhere along the theme of "I know I'm interrupting something and will use my 30 second recording time to be obnoxious"- because according to Margot there was pretty much no chance that he wasn't interrupting something. The down side to dating your brother's boyfriend's best friend was that you eventually heard all about the fact that the brother and the boyfriend had barely been out of bed (or not up against their front door apparently) for the last week or so. Eric's call rang through to voice mail, as he'd suspected it would at 10:00 in the morning.

"Hey Cory, it's your brother, very glad you just let me go to voicemail instead of letting me interrupt anything, for future reference that is always the right thing to do, I was just calling to invite you to mine and Margot's New Year’s party- well technically Andy's New Year’s party, but I get to invite everyone I want to and then I invited Margot's whole party over, anyway- starts at eight, but a very, very beautiful little birdie told me that you two have the day off and could possibly be dragged out of bed and guilted into helping me clean up because we've been in New York for months on end and neither of you know where I live. Give me a call, I'll get you directions."

“Wait, really?” Topanga demanded.

“Yes!” Margot exclaimed in exasperation.

“Wow. That’s a surprise.” Topanga sipped her fancy tea, it was Chinese Black Orchid. It wasn’t nearly as exotic as it had sounded. “I mean, no offence, you just seem like…”

“Like what?” Margot demanded with a little smirk.

“Like you wouldn’t have any qualms about getting rid of it- not in a slutty way,” Topanga answered carefully, “Because of the liberated, hippie, Goddess-worshipper thing.”

Margot stirred her tea. It had little black balls of chewy something in it. For some odd reason they were called “pearls”. Topanga had leaned toward ordering some in her own drink, but then felt that she had used up her exotic quota for the next few days.

Margot cleared her throat, “Confident, intelligent, interesting,” Her smirk got wider, “And properly modest girls like me, tend to go out with guys for a couple of months and then get left for someone less complicated. Plus I didn’t have a boyfriend until I was 22, so I’m actually just really behind. And, you know, expectations crop up when you’re stuck with it this long.”

“I suppose I get that,” Topanga answered, “I waited until I was married and that has all of the approved expectations built in. What kind of expectations do you have?”

Margot sucked a pearl out of her straw with a loud pop.

“Well…. I gave up on the idea of the guy being a virgin too a couple years ago, because, you know, that phase is pretty much over for them, as a gender. I’d like to love him, but that’s getting looser. But he has to, has to, be someone that I trust completely. Who respects me. Someone I really like. Someone who’s going to be careful with me,” She sucked up another pearl, “Eric’s all of that,” Margot’s smirk became an honest smile and she started working another pearl up her straw. Topanga felt compelled to respond.

“Margot… I don’t want to burst your bubble or anything, but Eric’s… crazy. He’s just rubber room bonkers sometimes,” Topanga told her gently, “Most of the time. For the last couple years actually.”

"What do you mean?" Margot asked.

Topanga sighed. Where to start? “He once decided that we had some sort of vendetta and dressed up as a grant wood painting, an old woman, and my couch in order to sneak up on me.”

"Why did he think you two had a vendetta?"

"I umm… Okay- there was all this… you know, business with the boys apartment and in the end Rachel and Angela and a professional wrestler and I wrestled the boys for their apartment and I sort of pounded Eric."

"You pounded Eric for his apartment?"

“Philadelphia’s a weird place,” Topanga offered in her defense, “What about the time he hit his head and could tell the future when he sneezed?”

Margot looked uncertain, "Wait, could he actually tell the future or did he just think he could?"

"Umm, I'm not sure."

"Really? Cause that’s an important point."

"Jack really thought that Eric would be able to sneeze lottery numbers. He made him wear a helmet and kept throwing pepper at him, but Jack's got a gambling addiction. Sorry," Topanga bit her lip, "I just… you have this big thing you're holding onto and I don't want you to sign on for something without all the needed details. Cause I've done that. When very important points- like you know, gayness, suddenly pop up without notice- it's not fun."

"No, fair enough," Margot took a deep drink of her tea, "Anything else that I should know?"

“Umm… He was once tutored by an imaginary Feeny."

"What the hell's a Feeny?" Margot asked.

"Mr. Feeny- he was our teacher…. In everything. Forever. He was Eric's mentor. When Feeny announced that he was retiring Eric dressed up in a scuba suit and grapple hooked into Feeny's window to tell him he couldn't retire, then jumped out and then showed up to graduation and sang a song that I think might have been a little more sexual than Eric realized. "

"Okay…"

"Oh! He lit Cory's dorm and his parents house on fire when he was trying to get Cory to make him best man, and then when Cory picked Shawn instead," Topanga entertained a slightly bitter smile, "Eric showed up at the reception hall dressed like Zorro and tried to convince me to run away with him. He kept calling everyone half breed."

"Okay," Margot said.

"Oh and then another time-"

"Okay- you know I got the picture," Margot cut her off, "Really. On board the crazy train."

"Sorry," Topanga shrugged.

"No, you're right, these are all things that I should know."

"So… you want to repay the favor?"

Margot raised her eyebrows questioningly and Topanga felt a little grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, "Tell me about Gaheris."

"Oh…You really want to just skip over that minefield, Topanga."

The grin dropped off, "Umm… suppose for the sake of argument that I'm already in the minefield."

"Oh no. How far into the minefield?"

"We slept together, then he took me out on a date and I was so upset and jealous and after we ran into Cory and Shawn that we went back to my dorm and slept together 3 or 4 more times."

Margot cleared her throat and took a very long sip from her straw, "Oh boy."

"Oh god. Clara was right. He is a playa."

"Okay- No matter who Clara is you should never use the word playa. You should also steer clear of player and Gaheris isn't either…. He just… convenient."

"What do you mean?"

"Umm okay- Gaheris is a good guy, but he’s not really…” Margot briefly wished she had more normal friends so that she didn’t have to explain things like this to people all the time, “Gaheris needs to save people. Was he there in the morning?"

"Yes."

"Did you ask him to be there in the morning?"

"Yes. He wasn't there in the morning the first time we slept together"

"Yeah. That's because he’s in pretty much every social justice organization at NYU. He does all the marches, all the pickets, all the protests. He let the lesbian alliance meet in his dorm for 2 months because they room they usually met in was being refurbished.”

“Okay,” Topanga started, “So what’s wrong with that? I don’t think a guy like that would take advantage of me.”

“No, he absolutely wouldn’t,” Margot agreed instantly, “He’s probably the only guy I would’ve trusted to take you back to your place after my winter party”

“Yeah, he didn’t do anything, he soaked the clothes I spilled on in the sink and then just stayed there.”

“Did you ask him to stay?”

“Yes.”

“Do you see where I'm going with this? He’s… just not… he’s not going to be your boyfriend is pretty much what I’m trying to tell you. I’ve been there. I mean, you can call him for pretty much the rest of your life for anything ranging from a ride home, to help moving, to help getting over a guy… but he’s… going to offer all that to anyone that asks him for it. He’s a good… transition… but he’s not the next step.”

“Alright," Topanga said slowly, "Did you date Gaheris?"

“No. That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Margot said, “I got dumped, I was really heartbroken about it, and I was complaining about just wanting to go out on a date again. So Gaheris took me to a movie, held my hand, we made out a little, he stayed over, but he had a world to go save in the morning.”

"So he's… helping me… because I asked him too," Topanga clarified.

"Yes," Margot confirmed apologetically.

"This part isn't super helpful," Topanga's voice got throaty and Margot gulped her tea uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry."

“God this just makes last night so much worse too. It’s not bad enough to see Cory and Shawn looking at each other and being puppy-dog eyed, the hills are alive, dopey smile besotted, now it turns out the date that Cory was so fucking polite about was just putting in his community service.”

“I’m sorry, I should have warned you earlier, or not let you go or something.”

“No, it’s not your fault… I’m…I don’t think I’m cut out for this single thing.”

“It’s one set back, Topanga. Plus, I mean, did you listen to your Philadelphia stories? It’s not singlehood, it’s the transition. You need a little more time to settle in here.”

“I’ve been living in New York for months!”

“Yeah, with Cory and Shawn, who, trust me, are like a Philadelphia weirdness bio-dome. Tell you what- Eric and I are mooching Andy’s New Year’s Party, you should come.”

“Are you going to talk to Eric about the… Philadelphia weirdness?”

“Sort of have to now don’t I?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry about Gaheris.”

They finished their drinks and pushed away from their table.

“Next time we go out,” Topanga started as they walked out the door, “Let’s go to a bar.”

“Yeah,” Margot agreed.

“Hey, are you alright? You sounded really weird on the phone,” Eric said, ushering Margot into his apartment, “How was going out for drinks with Topanga?”

“Could’ve been better,” Margot shrugged.

Eric wrapped his arms around her waist, “I’m sorry.”

“She’s… ummm… I had to tell her some stuff about a guy that I know that she didn’t want to hear.”

“Shawn?”

“No, my friend Gaheris, she thinks they're dating, and I know for a fact that he doesn't think so.”

“That poor girl just cannot catch a break can she.”

“And she told me a bunch of stories about Philadelphia, bunch of stories about you.”

“Did she tell you the one where Jack and I had to hide out in fake beards in the Amish country to escape a bookie we couldn’t pay?”

Margot grinned, “No, she left that one out.”

Eric brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “Are you sure you’re alright? I thought you needed to go home after you went out with Topanga.”

Margot tip-toed up to kiss him, “Topanga told me all these stories about the crazy things that you did. Really, really crazy things. Things you didn’t tell me.”

“Okay…sorry. What do you want to know?”

“Nothing.”

Eric grinned uncertainly at her, “Margot, I don’t get it, what’s going on?”

“Nothing she said bothered me. I mean, she made you sound like a total nut, and I know she’s a little over-sensitive about not getting the full story on people right now, but she was telling me things she thought I needed to know, and none of it, not even the scuba suit and the grappling hook, made me second guess being with you.”

“So basically you still like me?” Eric asked.

“Basically, I trust you. I love you-“

“I love you too-”

“-and I came over to see if you still have that altoid container full of condoms.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Eric demanded.

“I’m serious.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

Eric froze for a second, then hauled Margot over his shoulder and practically skipped into his bedroom, carefully flipping her down onto his bed and settling on top of her. She surged up to kiss him and his phone began vibrating across his nightstand.

“You can answer that if you need to,” Margot told him.

“If God wanted me to answer that phone he wouldn’t have invented voicemail.”

Margot kissed him again and Eric pulled back, “Wait, wait- you and Topanga went out for drinks?”

“What? Oh no. Tea, we got tea.”

“Thank god,” Eric resumed kissing her, “Cause there’s a damn good chance that last bit of chivalry was a bluff.”