Temperatures Rising
Summary: This very short story is based on "Weathergirl".
Disclaimer: Early Edition characters belong to whoever created them. No
copyright infringement intended. No profit is being made.
Author: Tracy Diane Miller
E-mail address: tdmiller82@hotmail.com
Temperatures Rising
He felt very warm. And that had nothing to do with the weather.
What was he doing here anyway? Stalking a weather girl? Behaving like an
adolescent groupie or a fan determined to see their favorite celebrity so
that they could return to their humdrum existence with the lingering memory
of that one moment in time when fantasy and reality merged in a kaleidoscope
of happiness?
This was silly.
He tried convincing Marissa when he rushed out this morning to WBBM that he
had to help with a "technical" problem with the newscast because the weather
girl kept getting the weather report wrong. It was important that the
weather is accurate after all, people depended on the weather. But Marissa
wasn't fooled by his clumsy explanation. She asked him whether he thought
that the weather girl was attractive. Again, he stumbled uncomfortably over
her query saying that he hadn't noticed and that attractiveness was a very
subjective question. For a moment there he felt as if he were back in high
school trying to keep his interest in a girl from his mother. Of course,
Mom always knew and she always called him on it, her probing questions
causing him embarrassment.
He didn't admit this to Marissa, but he did find Rebecca Waters, the weather
girl, very attractive. Her shimmering blonde hair, her perkiness, her
effervescent smile, just radiated all over the screen.
Soon, the object of his desire appeared outside the television station. He
swallowed hard as he approached her.
"Excuse me. Ms. Waters?" He began politely.
"Yes?"
"Hello...ah. I'm Gary Hobson. I watch you, your program, the one about the
weather."
Great, he did say like a stalker. No, worse... he sounded like some
pathetic schoolboy trying too hard to impress the popular girl in school.
"It's called the news." She said matter of factly.
Rebecca didn't appreciate him telling her that her forecasts were wrong,
insinuating that he could do her job better than she could. However, when
heavy rains burst from her forecast of sunny skies and no rain, Rebecca
watched in awe as the man she had just met who told her of the down pour
walked away, his umbrella over his head expectedly even before the first
drops hit the ground.
The weather girl crossed paths once again with the enigmatic man outside the
planetarium. He certainly was attractive, she thought to herself. After
exchanging pleasantries (and a mutual playful flirtation), she asked him
whether his prediction of rain was a lucky guess. He told her that it
wasn't a lucky guess, but a football injury, actually his collarbone that
never healed that was his barometer. It was a lie, but he couldn't exactly
tell her that his flawless prediction came from tomorrow's newspaper today.
She asked him whether her weather report today, that there would be no
winds, was accurate. He hesitated briefly before telling her that again she
was wrong- there would be gusts of wind coming off of the lake. No sooner
had he made this announcement did Mother Nature, perhaps waiting on cue to
exhale, let out a powerful breath, her healthy winds cascading off of the
lake.
The force of nature seized Rebecca's scarf in its strong arm. Always
chivalrous, Gary retrieved the fleeing article of clothing. A short while
later, Rebecca realized that she needed to leave or risk being late for her
next forecast. But like Cinderella she had left something behind in her
haste- her scarf. Whether Fate had christened him Prince Charming he wasn't
sure. But he was a gentleman and his mother had taught him good manners.
Consequently, he knew that he had to go to the television station to return
the scarf. Of course, the added bonus would be seeing her again.
He entered the television station, was announced by the receptionist, and
told that he could observe the taping from the floor, but that he had to
wait behind the green line. Rebecca sparkled on screen despite her
continuous erroneous weather reports. He decided to help. Soon, her
erroneous (and arguably lackluster) weather report was transformed by his
hints into a surprising prediction of snow within the next ten minutes. He
disappeared from the station with Rebecca following him in hot pursuit.
When she caught up with him, she asked him whether he was sure of his belief
of impending snow. Pretty sure, he confirmed. A short while later, the
skies opened up as snow trickled from the heavens.
He was the most amazing man she had ever met. She rewarded him with a
sensual kiss on the lips.
He felt very warm and that had nothing to do with the weather.
Unfortunately, heroics beckoned and he was off to his next save, but not
before promising to call her. The next morning, he called her giving her
his weather report, courtesy of his trusty collarbone (Translation: The
Paper). The guy who gets tomorrow's news today had turned Rebecca Waters
into the girl who always got the weather right.
Later, they enjoyed a wonderful dinner date followed by a lingering kiss
outside of her apartment. Finally, The Paper seemed to be advancing the
cause of romance.
Or, so he thought.
The next day, as expected, the chorus of a "meow" and a thump signaled the
arrival of morning. He frantically began flipping through the paper and was
immediately alarmed when he discovered that the weather report was missing.
He ran down to the bar to fill Marissa in on his dilemma then hurried back
up stairs to call Rebecca. Lying, he told her that his collarbone had healed so
he had no theories on the weather. It suddenly became very chilly over
those phone lines, as his "recovery" wasn't met with a positive response.
Dead air. She had hung up on him.
Later, he was surprised when he emerged from the shower to find her in his
loft. Quickly replacing the towel on his body with his bathrobe, he
accepted her prodding to sit in a chair while she massaged his shoulders.
The ecstasy of her magic fingers awakened his senses. Yet, her veiled
references to movies that they could watch together ("Singing in the Rain"
or "Sunshine Boys") made him painfully aware that his allure to her was
because of his ability to predict the weather.
In the end, however, Rebecca realized that she was not cut out to do the
weather and became a traffic girl in Dallas.
And a guy who could predict the weather because of a futuristic newspaper
learned that even when you know tomorrow's news today, that doesn't prevent
storm clouds from hovering over and raining down on love.
The End.
Summary: This very short story is based on "Weathergirl".
Disclaimer: Early Edition characters belong to whoever created them. No
copyright infringement intended. No profit is being made.
Author: Tracy Diane Miller
E-mail address: tdmiller82@hotmail.com
Temperatures Rising
He felt very warm. And that had nothing to do with the weather.
What was he doing here anyway? Stalking a weather girl? Behaving like an
adolescent groupie or a fan determined to see their favorite celebrity so
that they could return to their humdrum existence with the lingering memory
of that one moment in time when fantasy and reality merged in a kaleidoscope
of happiness?
This was silly.
He tried convincing Marissa when he rushed out this morning to WBBM that he
had to help with a "technical" problem with the newscast because the weather
girl kept getting the weather report wrong. It was important that the
weather is accurate after all, people depended on the weather. But Marissa
wasn't fooled by his clumsy explanation. She asked him whether he thought
that the weather girl was attractive. Again, he stumbled uncomfortably over
her query saying that he hadn't noticed and that attractiveness was a very
subjective question. For a moment there he felt as if he were back in high
school trying to keep his interest in a girl from his mother. Of course,
Mom always knew and she always called him on it, her probing questions
causing him embarrassment.
He didn't admit this to Marissa, but he did find Rebecca Waters, the weather
girl, very attractive. Her shimmering blonde hair, her perkiness, her
effervescent smile, just radiated all over the screen.
Soon, the object of his desire appeared outside the television station. He
swallowed hard as he approached her.
"Excuse me. Ms. Waters?" He began politely.
"Yes?"
"Hello...ah. I'm Gary Hobson. I watch you, your program, the one about the
weather."
Great, he did say like a stalker. No, worse... he sounded like some
pathetic schoolboy trying too hard to impress the popular girl in school.
"It's called the news." She said matter of factly.
Rebecca didn't appreciate him telling her that her forecasts were wrong,
insinuating that he could do her job better than she could. However, when
heavy rains burst from her forecast of sunny skies and no rain, Rebecca
watched in awe as the man she had just met who told her of the down pour
walked away, his umbrella over his head expectedly even before the first
drops hit the ground.
The weather girl crossed paths once again with the enigmatic man outside the
planetarium. He certainly was attractive, she thought to herself. After
exchanging pleasantries (and a mutual playful flirtation), she asked him
whether his prediction of rain was a lucky guess. He told her that it
wasn't a lucky guess, but a football injury, actually his collarbone that
never healed that was his barometer. It was a lie, but he couldn't exactly
tell her that his flawless prediction came from tomorrow's newspaper today.
She asked him whether her weather report today, that there would be no
winds, was accurate. He hesitated briefly before telling her that again she
was wrong- there would be gusts of wind coming off of the lake. No sooner
had he made this announcement did Mother Nature, perhaps waiting on cue to
exhale, let out a powerful breath, her healthy winds cascading off of the
lake.
The force of nature seized Rebecca's scarf in its strong arm. Always
chivalrous, Gary retrieved the fleeing article of clothing. A short while
later, Rebecca realized that she needed to leave or risk being late for her
next forecast. But like Cinderella she had left something behind in her
haste- her scarf. Whether Fate had christened him Prince Charming he wasn't
sure. But he was a gentleman and his mother had taught him good manners.
Consequently, he knew that he had to go to the television station to return
the scarf. Of course, the added bonus would be seeing her again.
He entered the television station, was announced by the receptionist, and
told that he could observe the taping from the floor, but that he had to
wait behind the green line. Rebecca sparkled on screen despite her
continuous erroneous weather reports. He decided to help. Soon, her
erroneous (and arguably lackluster) weather report was transformed by his
hints into a surprising prediction of snow within the next ten minutes. He
disappeared from the station with Rebecca following him in hot pursuit.
When she caught up with him, she asked him whether he was sure of his belief
of impending snow. Pretty sure, he confirmed. A short while later, the
skies opened up as snow trickled from the heavens.
He was the most amazing man she had ever met. She rewarded him with a
sensual kiss on the lips.
He felt very warm and that had nothing to do with the weather.
Unfortunately, heroics beckoned and he was off to his next save, but not
before promising to call her. The next morning, he called her giving her
his weather report, courtesy of his trusty collarbone (Translation: The
Paper). The guy who gets tomorrow's news today had turned Rebecca Waters
into the girl who always got the weather right.
Later, they enjoyed a wonderful dinner date followed by a lingering kiss
outside of her apartment. Finally, The Paper seemed to be advancing the
cause of romance.
Or, so he thought.
The next day, as expected, the chorus of a "meow" and a thump signaled the
arrival of morning. He frantically began flipping through the paper and was
immediately alarmed when he discovered that the weather report was missing.
He ran down to the bar to fill Marissa in on his dilemma then hurried back
up stairs to call Rebecca. Lying, he told her that his collarbone had healed so
he had no theories on the weather. It suddenly became very chilly over
those phone lines, as his "recovery" wasn't met with a positive response.
Dead air. She had hung up on him.
Later, he was surprised when he emerged from the shower to find her in his
loft. Quickly replacing the towel on his body with his bathrobe, he
accepted her prodding to sit in a chair while she massaged his shoulders.
The ecstasy of her magic fingers awakened his senses. Yet, her veiled
references to movies that they could watch together ("Singing in the Rain"
or "Sunshine Boys") made him painfully aware that his allure to her was
because of his ability to predict the weather.
In the end, however, Rebecca realized that she was not cut out to do the
weather and became a traffic girl in Dallas.
And a guy who could predict the weather because of a futuristic newspaper
learned that even when you know tomorrow's news today, that doesn't prevent
storm clouds from hovering over and raining down on love.
The End.