(Yo. I'm on a Charlaney roll, if you hadn't noticed. Thinking I'll probably post a companion to this, Charlie's side, in the next couple days. May also do Erictoria ones if I'm still feelin' it. Reviews would be A+. Enjoy!)

When had Laney fallen in love with Charlie?

That was hard to say.

Maybe it had been the morning that Victoria's bottle drive started, when he'd peered at her face through his magnifying glass, then smiled and booped her nose. Or maybe it had been later that week, when he'd asked her for help to trap the raccoon he'd thought was a ghost. Maybe it had been when they found the raccoon's hole in the studio wall and he'd shouted excitedly that it might lead to another dimension. She'd rolled her eyes at the time, of course, but looked back on the moment fondly. Charlie had a different way of thinking.

Maybe it had been the first time exams rolled around, and Charlie had asked her to help him study. Maybe it had been during the week they spent together before finals, carefully going over every bit of curriculum. Or maybe it had been when she saw the way his face lit up when he finally understood something. Maybe it had been when he'd hugged her and announced that he'd passed every class, or when the next semester's exams came and he'd asked for her help again. She'd done the job so well last time, he reasoned.

Maybe it had been the morning he'd arrived to school with a robot, one he'd built on a whim – in his garage – from his dad's old eight-track player. She'd been very impressed. That wasn't something just anyone could do. Or maybe it had been when she spent the rest of that day helping him create another in the school basement. They'd never had the chance to see if it really worked, but that was all right. It had been a great day.

Maybe it had been when he'd trusted her to look after his monkey, Clyde, for a day. Clyde was an absolute monster and had caused her a lot of grief, but by coincidence, at the end of the day, Charlie had come to believe she'd done an excellent job. Maybe it had been when, filled with guilt, she'd told him the real story and he'd only laughed and said, "Clyde's always like that, it's fine." Maybe it was when he'd said she handled the mess well, or when he said that he'd trust her with Clyde again – except, maybe in his cage this time.

Or maybe it hadn't been until, one summer, she asked the gang if anyone wanted to spend a night outside watching the Perseids meteor shower with her, and Charlie had been the only one to agree. Eric and Victoria had been busy, and that was okay, but Charlie had come. Maybe it had been when he'd showed up that August evening with equipment to protect them from aliens that might be hitching a ride on the meteors. Or maybe it had been spending the night stretched out on a blanket on her front lawn, each shouting when they spotted a shooting star, competing to see who'd have counted more by morning.

Maybe it had been that night, past twelve, when she realized he'd been watching her for the last ten minutes. Maybe it had been when she'd said to him, "We're supposed to be watching the stars," and he'd replied, "They're not all in the sky."

Maybe Laney would never quite pin down the moment when it started. But it was true; the time had come when her stomach fluttered every time he smiled at her, spoke her name, touched her. The time had come when she would catch herself watching him, taking pleasure and comfort in the sight of him working through the most mundane tasks. The time had come that when he hugged her, she'd hoped he might never let go.

She loved the way Charlie knew her like no one else did and yet was still sometimes surprised. She loved the way he communicated, the way he would do things she didn't expect without realizing she didn't expect them, the way he always took the first step without realizing it was a step at all. She loved that the world was different through Charlie's eyes, and she loved the slow process of learning to see everything the way he did.

She loved the way their relationship had developed, a natural progression from nothing to everything, always driven by the things Charlie did without even stopping to think. How as they'd grown closer he'd begun to stand nearer to her, touch her hands more, pull her hair out of her face without even being asked when she was wearing welding gloves or lab gear. Or there had been a day when there was no room left on the studio couch so without saying a word, without looking, without any indication at all that what he was doing was out of the ordinary, he had pulled her into his lap and carried on with the conversation at hand. For a long time Laney was never quite sure where she stood with him, so she stayed quiet and let it happen. She was content enough.

There had been the day when the crew was going out for ice cream after school to celebrate a great show, and he'd held her hand all the way there. He didn't pay her any extra attention, necessarily; he was still part of what was going on in the group. Still talking, joking, laughing like always. Eric and Victoria had noticed the way Charlie had loosely knitted his fingers with Laney's, but neither asked. Laney suspected that they knew the answer wouldn't be concrete.

The gang had had a lot of fun that afternoon, and after that they hung out together after school more often. With that development came an increase in Charlie's hand-holding habit, to the point that he did it every time the group went out. If they went to get food, he would often choose the seat next to Laney in the booth, and sometimes he'd sit with his arm around her shoulders. She wasn't always convinced she knew why it was happening, but it made her happy, so she tried not to question it.

Sometimes Charlie would ask her to hang out with him, even without the other two. They had movie marathons, or park picnics, or bike rides. She loved his laugh, and his hands, and the sandwiches he made, and the warm hug he'd give her every time they parted.

One afternoon, after Eric and Victoria had both left the studio, Laney had gathered up her things and called across the room to Charlie that she was on her way out. "Oh, wait," he'd said, and he'd hopped out of his chair and across the room to peck her on the lips and say "I love you, see you tomorrow."

Laney had frozen in her tracks, staring at him, and then she'd said, "What?" and he'd repeated, "I love you, see you tomorrow." And she'd asked, "Since when?" and he'd said, "Well, tomorrow is Tuesday, and I usually see you on Tuesday, don't I?" and she'd responded, "No, I mean, since when did you love me?" and he'd frowned and tipped his head to one side and answered, "You didn't know?"

"No," she had told him, shaking her head, red-faced. "I had no idea."

"Oh," he'd said, taken aback. "Well, I love you."

And then she'd bitten her lip for a moment and asked, "Charlie, am I your girlfriend?"

And he'd responded, "Do you want to be?"

"Yes."

"Then you are." Then he had leaned down and kissed her once more, and said, "I love you, see you tomorrow," and from there it had been history.

Not everyone really understood Charlie very well, with all his quirks and odd qualities. Sometime people would ask Laney what she saw in him, and sometimes she would say, "his unique perspective," and sometimes she would say, "his warm heart," and sometimes she would say, "that's a trick question. There are too many possible answers." And that was true: Laney saw a lot in Charlie. Maybe more than almost anyone else.

Laney loved the way Charlie reminded her every day that he loved her. She loved the way he always kissed her gently at first, the way he held her close whenever he could, the way he never went to bed without remembering to text her good night. She loved the way he'd pull her against his chest and tuck her under his chin, or the way he'd lift her up high so they could be face to face. She loved the way he still looked surprised whenever he startled her, like he always assumed she just knew things without him having to say them.

She loved the way he liked to tickle her, covering her face with kisses as he did so just to make her laugh that much harder. She loved the way he never behaved differently about her when others were around, and the way he never behaved differently about others when she was around. She loved the way she just fit seamlessly into his life, and he into hers, as if they were simply part of one another, not something to be worked around but something to be worked in.

She loved when he rested his head in her lap and let her play with his curly hair. She loved when he grabbed her hand and pulled her along. She loved listening to him talk about aliens, ghosts, mutants, zombies, robots. She loved that he believed completely every word he said. She loved the days when she wondered if he might even be smarter than the rest of them, just with a perspective so different it was impossible to tell.

She loved the way he expressed himself, in words no one else would ever think of, making her see him and the world and herself in a new light. She loved the way that with him she could be a bit more confident, a bit more happy, and bit more steady. She loved learning what she was like through his eyes. She loved the way he taught her something new every day without even knowing he was doing it.

Mostly, she loved him.

Why was Laney Nielsen so completely in love with Charlie McGuinness?

That was hard to say.