Title: Until Time and Space
Rating: PG-13
Summary: This story is based on the fourth book afterwards. It contains a dream and a premonition, both of which are too similar to ignore. And of course, Jimena is never wrong in her seeings. Contains very much Chris and Catty because they are sooooo cute. In Catty's PoV.

He was gone, and it hurt me to come to that realization. I sat on my bed, still dressed in an oversized T-shirt with a sea turtle printed on the front and a pair of grey sweatpants. Charcoal was held in my right hand, and I peeked at the sketch. It contained his image and I was mesmerized by my own talent. His eyes seemed so real, like he was staring at me, delving into my soul like he had used to. But his smile was what made me break. I tried to contain my tears, but they dripped with ease onto the sketchpad. My heart ached as my own doing stained the paper, smearing the lines slightly. It would never be him, no matter how realistic it looked. It just wasn't the same. So I pushed the drawing away, never minding to wipe at the trails of tears that hadn't stopped.

I rolled the piece of charcoal against my hands, leaving them dirtied. As an artist, I had gotten used to it, but now it seemed to bring me more pain. I now remembered the night when I had traveled away with Stanton, went back to my mom. I had spoken with her about the Secret Scroll, not minding that the desert dust was finding its own comfort against my clothes and skin. After returning, Chris had found his way to my doorstep. He saw me in my most embarrassing state, and he had still kissed me... Even with all that dirt covering me, I could see in his eyes that he had only found beauty in me.

I tossed the drawing utensil across the room, not caring that it had hit the wall and marked it. New tears formed and dropped onto my hands, washing away some of the black muck that was so attached to them. God, I missed him so much. Why did he have to be centuries old? Why did he have to protect the scroll? Just why couldn't he have been a normal teenager that didn't have to go away? But maybe that had been what had drawn me. That night at Planet Bang, when Jimena had pointed out his stare, there had been something.. I had known he had been different, more so than what he had first given off, but I knew there were secrets. So I guess even though he was gone, I still knew that he had to have been the person he was for me to have been wanting him.

But the night was unbearable now. How long had it been since he had left me? I came to the remembrance of that moment and realized it had been two weeks. Two weeks without Chris... My heart ached further and I clutched my chest against the cotton fabric. I knew in my heart that I shouldn't, but I rang up Vanessa. A few rings passed with no answer, and I huffily hung up the phone. I had forgotten. Her and her mother had gone out of town for vacation. My throat was sore now from the cries that I wanted to voice, but I wouldn't let that out. Who else could I call? Serena would be out surfing with Collin, so that only left Jimena. Fair enough. She was one of my close friends, so it wouldn't seem to odd to ask her to come spend the night.

After scrunching up my nose for a second, my glittering nails of ruby red pressed firmly against the numbers, the phone hugging my ear. It took a while, but a slow and lazy voice answered. "Salga!" Her voice seemed irritated, but afterwards, she realized who I was. "Oh, apesadumbrado, Catty." I could hear her shift and the sound of her picking up an object sounded. "Do you know what time it is?"

I knew. Of course I knew. How could I not know when my decked out clock was staring straight at me, hands serenely clicking away, reminding me of how late, or early, it was? "Sorry about that, Jimena. I just couldn't sleep and I was wondering if you would mind coming over."

Jimena yawned and I caught it through the phone, my mouth mimicking the motion. "Sorry, chica. Grandma is sick and I have to take care of her." Another yawn passed through her lips and dangled across the line.

I didn't wish to hide my disappointment, but I wanted to keep her on the line. "Your grandmother is back?" Earlier, her grandma had traveled to where Jimena's father was tending to the restaurant, but it seemed like it had been a short visit.

"Si. She's come down with a fever and he sent her back. It's not looking good for her." There was a bit of sorrow in her voice, but Jimena, being the bad-ass girl that she was, tried to cover it up. "What's up? Why would you want me to come over? What's so important?"

"Geez...Interrogation time, Jimena? What if I just wanted to talk?" I wouldn't admit to her that I missed Chris. I wouldn't admit it to anyone else but myself. But the crying was going to force itself on me once more, and so I was hoping that she was attempt to force me to talk about it.

"I know you better than that, Catty. So really? What's on your mind, girl?" I could hear her get up and walk to the kitchen, turning on the sink and pouring water into a glass. I sat there for a moment and listened to her gulp down the liquid. "Hola?" Her Spanish snapped me back.

"It's... I don't want to say it, but it's Chris. I miss him so much, Jimena. I feel so incomplete. And of course, the dreams don't make it any better." The dreams... I tried to force the recollection of the sensual world to go away, but it came back to mind. Everything about it made me crave him more than I already did, and that seemed a bit dangerous.

There was silence for a while, like she was wondering if she should tell me something. After a moments silence, she decided for it. "I had a premonition." Of course, straight to the point.

"About?" I always loved to listen to what she had to say about her visions. Even though they always happened, the good with the bad, they seemed to only be helping us. I bit my lip, knowing it was something about the two of us. Why else had she brought it up at that moment?

I could sense her wanting to roll her eyes at me, but I prodded on with little noises. "What else about? You and Chris." And although I had known this, it still excited me. But what was it about? Why had she been so reluctant? "It's nothing bad, if that's what you were wondering." Good. Now that we had that established...

"Well? What was it about?" My voice squeaked, inviting her to talk about it.

"It's highly disturbing for me." But there was humor in her voice. I knew she found it amusing and I cleared my throat. "All right, all right. Hold on." Jimena paused for effect, and I could tell that she was smiling wickedly.

"Jimena..." I pouted over the phone, voice in a whiny drawl as she hopped onto the counter. "Tell me." I scooted farther on my bed, crossing my legs over the edge.

"Alright, already! Keep your skirt on." She cleared her throat and I knew she wanted to draw every ounce of anticipation out of me. Finally, she gave in. "I saw you two, holding eachother. You were kissing and it was gross, and I mean gross. Both of you were butt desnudo and then you started to...unravel." Her voice finished for a second and she was trying to press the words from her throat. "You were like sand and you just started disappearing."

I sorted this through my head. It was a bit from my dream. Even the naked part. Well, I assumed desnudo was Spanish for 'naked'. "I guess that means we know what my choice will be." That had to be it... When we were unraveling, as she had put it, I could only remember thinking that it had to have been the right choice. I remembered that I knew that surrendering my power would mean that I would forget it...Everything. About Chris and my friends... And so that only meant that at 17, I would choose to live beyond what everyone knew.

Jimena didn't speak for a while. I could hear the unsteady breaths that she took, and I knew that this was hard for her. She hadn't made her choice yet, but I was hoping she'd make the same one I would. "I guess so. Catty?" Jimena was trying to lighten the mood.

"Yes?"

"Don't come into my premonitions again. I find seeing two people making out naked disturbing." We both laughed at this, but soon Jimena announced that she had to get back to bed. I only nodded in response, and after remembering that we were over the phone, spoke my farewells.

Jimena's premonitions were never wrong. Would I really choose that? But the even odder thing was, like I had noticed before, was that it was a snippet from my dreams. This made me want to cry even more. I wanted to be with him, but at what cost was I prepared to do that? I fell back onto my bed and recalled my dream.

He seemed almost like a ghost, but I had never really believed in ghosts. Aliens yes, but ghosts were just a bit too peculiar for my taste. But as I stepped closer, he became clearer. I moved to touch him, but Chris only grabbed my hand. I felt his lips against my fingertips, sucking and paying special attention to each one. Tears wanted to release themselves, but I wouldn't let them. And then he looked at me, and I knew just how real he was, if only in this dream.

My heart was pounding, and it was stronger now that he was nearing me. He hadn't released hold of my hand, but his own free one gripped me at my waist, fingers tracing the small of my back. I could feel myself gasp, and he seemed to like that. No words were spoken between us, but we knew where this was headed.

My eyes were partially closed, but I caught the view of one of the straps of my shirt falling. It skimming my skin, Chris helping it. The touch of him made me shiver, and he cocked a smile at me. At that moment, his lips were next to my ear, the hot breath tickling anything it touched. Chris lowered his mouth, sucking on the showing skin that he had just revealed. At that moment, I had decided what I wanted to do. I would become whatever it was that Daughters became if they decided to transform. But even though he knew, he asked me that question. "Will you be with me?"

"Forever." It was meant to be stronger, but it seemed that my whisper was more effective than it had seemed. "Until time and space ends, and even then, we will make our own world." This satisfied his need to understand and he switched to the other shoulder, the thin string lazily edging near the end. It finally fell and he ran a thumb against the soft skin, smiling. His kisses trailed against my neck, my cheek, finding their way to my lips. We kissed, passion emanating clearly. As he cupped one of my cheeks, he let himself unzip the back of my skirt. It came to me as a little shock, but I welcomed it. And without waiting for his own approval, I worked against his clothes.

We stood there, as revealed as could possibly be. His eyes weren't hungry, they didn't prey on me, didn't feast on how much they knew I wanted him. Instead, they were amazed, but yet with the knowing of all along that I was just as beautiful as he had imagined.

In my dreams, we made love. We didn't have sex, we didn't screw or fuck, we made love. It was passionate and filled with emotion. And at the end, every time, we would hold eachother and stand, my head against his chest, his lips cuddling up to the base of my neck, and seemed to slowly blend into the scenery, our skin fading and drifting off, almost like the dust particles that you always see in your house.

And then I would awake and cry because that's what I really wanted.