He saw her step out from the classroom and literally felt his heart stop for a moment. Then it began to pound. Really hard. If he looked down he’d probably see it pulsating under his T-shirt. She stepped further into the hall, into a ray of sunlight that snuck in from the window across from her and it slid up her leg. She was wearing a skirt today - one with slits up either side, and when she walked he could see glimpses of her skin. But now she paused at her locker, balancing a text book on her knee, which caused the material of her skirt to part and reveal a section of her sunkissed thigh as she struggled to get her books into her locker while keeping everything from falling out of it. He should probably help her, but he was enjoying the view way too much…

He swallowed suddenly feeling too warm. He flung off his leather jacket and pitched it into his locker and slammed it shut. He was excited. And not just in the teenage-boy-gawking-at-a-beautiful-girl-in-a-sexy-skirt way (although that was definitely a part of it). He was excited because he had gotten flashes the last time they’d…messed around…which A - meant he could do something that Max could do and B - (and this was the one that made his heart pound) he now had an excellent excuse to touch her and touch her and touch her…

And to top it all off she was having flashes too...

He resisted the urge to skip over to her - cuz y’know men - and especially Michael Guerin - do *not* skip, and he forced himself into a saunter hoping it was sexy and that she would be so overcome by said sexiness that she wouldn’t see his shaking hands that were itching to reach out and touch the sun on her.

*Time to pursue my own avenues…Man I’m giddy…Be cool…Michael Guerin does not drool…Michael Guerin does not skip and he does not droo-*

She closed her locker just as he reached her and leaned back against it, gazing up at him with heavy lidded eyes and lips parted, curled into a little smile. He swallowed.

"Hey…"

*I’m going to pass out. Before I even get a chance to touch her I’m going to melt into a puddle at her feet. Now I know what it is to be Whitman…Dear God I hope I’m not that obvious…*

He jerked his chin at her in yet another Cool Dude Move and she rolled her eyes. He smirked at her. She saw through him every time.

"Are you free this period?" He asked as she picked up his hand and started tracing little circles into it, relieved that his voice came out low and gravelly instead of the high pitched squeak he was expecting as a result of her caresses.

Damn Cosmo Magazine. Magazines like that armed chicks with all this ammunition about pleasure spots and how to make a guy fall to pieces…and the worst part was they used it…which left poor guys like him completely defenseless…and drooling…

Evil, evil magazines teaching legions of woman to create their own personal drooly love slaves…

As much as he was opposed to it, what she was doing to his hand felt reeeaaaalllly nice…

"No…" She murmured looking up from his hand and into his eyes. "Are you?"

"Nope…" She bit her lip and his stomach did a somersault that could’ve won him a medal in the Olympics as she kept hold of his hand and led him to the Eraser Room.

She pulled him inside and shut the door behind her giving him a look as she locked it with a deliberate flick of her wrist. He waited for her over by the shelves, leaning against them (Y’know cuz Cool Dude Move number two is leaning) even though they were really uncomfortable against his back. And she walked…no slithered…up to where he was and put her hands on his shoulders, curling her fingers into his shirt, then releasing it, then curling them again until he felt the edge of his shirt slide up. He jumped slightly as his skin brushed up against the cold metal shelving unit.

She leaned forward slowly, kissing the underside if his jaw as he automatically tilted his head back to give her more access. When her tongue traced the path her lips had just taken he closed his eyes as the flashes that came tumbling into his brain in little fireflies of light exploded into pictures.

He saw the shoes again and smiled against her lips as she finally kissed him there. He liked that one. He liked watching her small fingers tangling in the bright blue strings, he liked her little mouth pushing out a puff of air that flipped her gold curls out of her eyes as she tried again, frustrated but determined to conquer the shoes…

He saw her with a man with the same gold hair giving her a necklace with a crystal heart pendant that spilled rainbows into her hands as he held it to the light.

He saw her with the prism he had given her all those years ago and saw how happy it had made her because not only was it a present from him but because she had lost the necklace and rainbows reminded her of her dad sitting out on the porch after rain storms trying to see who could spot the rainbow first…he always let her win that game…

He saw her sitting on the steps of her house giving up on her laces because it was too late to catch him anyway. The car was already disappearing around the corner, and she stared after it, tears streaming down her face. A Dalmatian that was almost bigger than she was slinked out from under the porch and sat beside her on the steps. He sniffed at her shoe, catching the edge of the Kermit patch on the side of it in his teeth and tugged at it playfully. She ignored him and he looked up at her, realizing she was upset and nudged her chin with his nose before licking the tears off of her cheeks, and pressing his warm body against her side for comfort as she wrapped her arms around him.

He saw her and Liz dressing up in her mom’s clothes, playing with her makeup as Ms. Deluca crimped their hair…

He saw her at ten years old dancing around her room with a life size alien doll she called "Michael" singing Paula Abdul songs to it.

He saw her practicing her kissing technique on it at eleven and then giving it up because she kept getting little tufts of green fur in her mouth and it wasn’t the real thing anyway.

He saw her looking at herself in the mirror at thirteen, frowning at her chest, before running into the bathroom, grabbing a roll of toilet paper and cramming handfuls of scrunched up Charmins into her bra.

He kissed her harder loving her for her insecurity, loving her because she didn’t know how beautiful, how perfect she was.

He saw her after their little…thing…in the Crashdown during the heatwave. He saw himself lift his head from her neck, come to his senses and practically vault out the door leaving her lying there on the floor, breathing hard, her hands to her flushed face then smoothing down her shirt that had been pushed up revealing most of her stomach, blotchy from his fumbling touches, his kisses.

He saw her as he grabbed her hand the next day at school, pulling her into the eraser room. He felt her relief that the night before hadn’t been a dream.

He saw her before the rave sneaking into her mother’s bedroom, her gold top glittering in the darkness as she rummaged in the drawer and found two silver square packets that she shoved into her purse. He saw her turn around and catch her reflection in the mirror. She smiled at herself and hugged the purse to her chest before running out of the room before her mom caught her.

He pulled back and she looked up at him with her smoky green eyes. She had been planning on having sex with him that night… He swallowed. She had almost given herself to him…had she really cared about him that much…trusted him that much…

"What is it…?" she murmured, and he shook his head at her, amazed that she would ever want someone like him… He started thinking about everything he had said that night…all that bullshit about needing to be alone… "Michael…?" He pushed the thoughts out of his head. That was over...she’d forgiven him…he didn’t know how or why but he wasn’t going to analyze it - he was too grateful.

He looked down at her, tracing her lower lip with his thumb before copying the caress with his own.

He saw her take the napkin holder and put it next to her bed. He saw her reach under her pillow and pull out a small purple pouch. She opened it and the prism he had given her in fifth grade slid out onto her palm. She held it to her lips for a moment, then put it back into the pouch and set it down inside the holder, cushioned by the napkins he had stuck in there.

He saw her lying awake with her arms around him long after he had fallen asleep that night he had come to her. He saw her cry for him out of worry and fear. He saw her bite her lip until it bled so he wouldn’t hear her, because she wanted him to sleep, to not have to worry about anything. He saw her rest her head on his shoulder and whisper three words into his ear as she finally allowed herself to sleep.

*I love you…*

"Wow…" he breathed against her lips, curling his fingers in her hair, cupping her face and trying to show her how he felt with his lips and his hands, knowing it wouldn’t be enough because nothing he could ever say or do would ever be enough to express it. What he was feeling went beyond words, beyond touch. But just feeling her right now, feeling himself feel her and everything she was letting him see, he was drowning in it and he wanted to stay there forever. He barely heard her say his name and mumbled an "uh huh.." trying to bring back some of the flashes that were already disappearing.

"This feels really good…"

It feels amazing…you’re amazing…you amaze me…

"These visions…flashes or whatever…

"uh huh…"

"I’m just um…I’m not completely sure I’ve actually really had one…"

He pulled back. The flashes collapsed in on themselves and the little fireflies of new ones winked out. Suddenly he felt cold.

"What do you mean you’re not completely sure?"

She looked up at him, her hand pushed her hair away from her face and every move she was making was so slow…slow motion…but not the good kind.

"Michael I…I faked it okay…"

He felt like he’d been slapped. Slapped, punched, kicked in the chest. He stepped back, away from her.

"Why would you tell me that?"

"Why? Because I...I want us to be close."

"You think that makes us close." He stared at her. He brought his hands to his face to wipe her kisses off his lips, to wipe the smoky trails of the disappearing flashes from his eyes, and turned to leave. He had to get out, if he didn’t he’d cry or yell…or…collapse in on himself.

"Where are you going?"

"How do you expect me to react?" He turned around trying hard to stay cool, to not explode, to not show her how hurt he was.

"Like...a person? Talk to me?"

"Yeah. Well, I could act like a person, but then I'd have to fake it."

"You know, maybe if you weren't so defensive and you didn't shut down all the time..."

"Then maybe what?"

"Maybe...it would happen." He stared at her for a moment, feeling his chest cave in and crush his heart.

"I lied to you, too...about the shoes." She flinched and some small part of him was glad of it, glad that he had hurt her.

"Really? 'Cause I did have red sneakers…"

"Everybody's got red sneakers."

*~*~*

"Look, I just really need you not to be cold or mean. If that's impossible, you can just let me know."

She looked so small, standing there in his doorway with her arms around herself, like she was trying to protect herself from him…from the harsh words she was expecting to hear from him. But he didn’t have any. He wasn’t mad at her anymore. It wasn’t her fault he wasn’t able to give her anything. She had just wanted to make him happy…he couldn’t be angry with her for that.

"You want to come in?"

"Yeah."

"Have a seat."

"Thanks…Can we talk about what happened?"

"Talk on…"

"I want you to know that what I said about you being all shut down and that's why I had to fake the flashes…that was...wrong and very unfair. If something went wrong, it was because of me. I'm the one who's scared. I mean, I fake all kinds of things all the time with everybody. It's just you were the first person I actually ever admitted it to..." He took a deep breath and sat down beside her.

"Well...thanks for sayin' that, but it's not really true…"

What do you mean? “

"It's not true about you being shut down all the time. I happen to know that for a fact..."

"Really? How?" She sounded like she didn’t believe him and he looked at her, sitting there beside him, upset with herself, knowing it was something she did that messed everything up. He remembered her as a kid in one of the flashes. The look on her face had been the same.

"Because you let me see you…" He said softly. "The red sneakers…Maria… One had a Kermit patch on it, and the shoelaces were blue, and you had your Dalmation dog with you there, licking off your tears…" He saw her face light up despite the sad memory…he saw her surprised smile and it warmed him. "And I saw a whole bunch of other stuff as well…" He thought about her happy. He thought about her saying "I love you…". He thought about her dancing around her room in her underwear with a giant stuffed alien she wished was him singing cheesy pop songs to it. He saw her hang the prism in her bedroom window and watch the rainbows slide up and down her body as it swayed in the breeze. He saw her contemplate her breast size and decide if he didn’t like her body the way it was that was too damn bad because she was not going to spend another sixty bucks on a stupid aqua-bra since the first one had leaked all over her favorite sweater. He smiled at that one wondering what she would say if he told her he loved her and her body exactly the way it was.

She was staring at him in amazement and he smiled at her trying not to feel too c*cky. "Was I right?"

"Yeah." She breathed into her hands as she brought them to her face and they slid down her cheeks, cradling her neck. "Um...that dog died when I was, like, 7…Right after my father left…"

He thought of that memory again, of her sitting on the porch steps, tears streaming down her face as she clung to that big dog watching the car as it rounded the corner and was gone.

"Kinda rough?" he asked, even though he knew how hard it had been for her. How hard everything had been for her since he had left.

"Yeah…I'd say so…I really didn't care about the stupid flashes." She said suddenly, looking into his eyes for a moment before losing her nerve and making her admission to the floor. "I just wanted us to be close…"

He moved closer to her and wrapped an arm around her, breathing in the scent of her hair and closing his eyes. They were close…She was closer to him than anyone else in this world or the next no matter how he acted no matter what she thought. He’d find a way to show her, to prove it to her but for now this was all he could thing of - an arm around her, pulling her a little closer a "Thanks" that he meant with all his heart and a gentle kiss on her forehead that said so much and not enough.

Back to Area 51 (Section II)