A/N: This fanfic is inspired by my old story Peanuts in High School (under my old pseudonym Robin Purdy) and an edit by droo216 on tumblr.

Those of you who know of my old pseudo may be wondering why I abandoned it. I simply grew out of it; I feel as if my writing has matured and that it would be easier to move on to a new account than work with the old one. I have picked up fanfic writing again to broaden my writing style and earn critique from readers. Practice makes perfect!

This is an ongoing fanfic, but I cannot promise I will update it frequently or if I even finish it. It all depends on the amount of free time I have and how much feedback I receive. With that, please enjoy my fanfic!

15 days after

A flash of lightning seared itself upon the ink-dipped sky. People dashed for cover as the scent of wet stone stained the air, a warning for a storm. A drizzle of rain started soon afterward, which quickly picked up into a downpour. Street lights glowed; small, umbrella-less crowds gathered under the protection of candy-striped awnings. Children smacked at buttery popcorn by the theater while their parents waited for the storm to pass. The lucky few who had procured an umbrella enjoyed disturbing the murky puddles on the asphalt road.

A young woman, barely 19 years old, ran along the streets, not caring that the rain soaked her clothes. Her beige tank-top and tangerine mini-skirt, though certainly not the best attire for a rainy night, clung to her skin like leeches. Her hair slipped from its braid as she raced. Each breath stifled her; fear had nested itself in her chest but the adrenaline kept her going. A slight smile crept on her lips.

How was he going to react when she told him? Thousands of scenarios tripped over themselves in her head. She had seen all sides of his personality before…anger, depression, joy, surprise. Hopefully, this news would not trigger the less desirable responses.

She paused for breath at the mouth of a short alleyway. "I really need to get myself a car," she panted. Her socks unpleasantly squished in her converse as she started to run again.

"Young lady! What are you doing in the rain? You'll catch a cold," an old woman shouted from an open door of a restaurant. Water dribbled from its green awning, which had the words "The Little Dragon" spelled on it.

"Actually," the girl slowed, "you don't catch a cold from being cold. It's a virus." Without another word, she continued again at full speed.

"Insolent child," the elder muttered, slamming the door. A "sorry, we're closed" sign was soon placed in the window.

The girl turned into a row of grubby apartment buildings. Trash mixed with the rainwater to concoct an unpleasant rotten-eggs-plus-wet-dog aroma. A black cat hid beneath the lid of a trash can, a chicken bone protruding between its teeth. Shadows lurking between the bleak buildings transformed into muggers, murderers, and rapists, to those with an imagination. If she didn't visit the place every day, she would feel hesitant to walk in such a neighborhood.

She stopped at the door of apartment building 202 with a wiry welcome mat that had more holes than material. She hesitated. Her heart leapt like a jackrabbit, but she dismissed it as a reaction to the exercise.

What-

She lifted her hand, curled it into a fist.

-would-

Her fist rapped on the door.

-he-

Footsteps pattered from beyond the doorway.

-say?

A man, so wrinkled that his eyes hid beneath the droopy creases, answered her. She knew him as the landlord of the apartment, Mr. McCrory. The door was only partially cracked open, dozens of locks and bolts keeping it chained to the doorframe.

"For heaven's sake," he grumbled. His voice was like a bird who lost its tune. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry. It's an emergency."

"Hrmph," he grumbled, and slammed the door. Each lock turned. He opened the door again.

"Thanks Mr. McCrory," she said as she pushed past him and up the stairs.

"Next time you come this late, break in through the window!" he shouted after her.

When she reached the third floor, she approached room 202C. She pounded on the door.

"Good god, who is it?" She smiled; he was so cute when he sounded angry. He flung open the door. His eyes bulged when he saw her. "P-Patty?"

"Hi Shermy."

"What are you doing here so late? And why are you so wet?"

"I have something to tell you."

"Why couldn't you have just called me? I may be poor, but I do have a phone, y'know… Come in, come in, don't just stand there dripping in the hall. McCrory would be pissed if you ruined the carpet." He gestured for her to come inside and placed his hand on the small of her back. She shivered from his warmth.

She plopped down on his excuse for a couch, a maggot-stricken lump of rotting fluff he found by the side of the road.

"You want something to drink? Coffee, milk, coke…?" he asked. He made his way to the kitchen, which was approximately 3 steps from the door; everything in his tiny apartment was 3 steps away from each other.

"Shermy, I'm pregnant."

"I've also got orange juice, chai tea…wait, what?"

"I. Am. Pregnant."

Shermy dropped his glass. It shattered over the floor like a wave of glitter."H-how?"

Patty laughed. "You know how, dummy." She jumped from the couch to help him clean up the mess.

"Am I the father's baby? Er, I mean, am father baby's me? I mean…"

Patty placed her hand on his. She always found it surprising how small she was compared to him. "Do I even need to answer? Of course you are."

He gulped. "You…you're still wet. I'll grab you a towel." He disappeared into his 3x3 bathroom to fetch one. She poured the glass shards in the trash.

"You don't have to worry," Patty said when he came back. She wrapped the blue cloth around her hair, which had now completely unraveled from its braid.

"About what?" His brown eyes sparkled at her, marveling at how easy it was for her to be beautiful, even though she wasn't trying.

"About money. I'm going to get a job, a nice one. And I can take care of the baby if you don't, I-"

Shermy put a finger to her lips. "I won't make you go through this alone. Patricia Abigail Farnesworth," he kneeled. "Will you marry me?"

Patty gasped. "Oh, Shermy, yes! Yes!" She dove into his arms.

Shermy kissed her and patted her belly. "And baby makes three," he grinned.

"When will we tell the gang?"

Shermy sighed. "Some time or other. They always seem so busy, with high school and all."

"Perhaps we should throw a party!" Patty giggled.

"I think who we should really worry about telling is your parents." He knew he was bringing up a storm.

Patty nodded, now quiet. She pushed herself out of Shermy's arms and turned her face away. His hands graced her shoulders. He removed the towel that wrapped around her head and buried his face in her auburn hair. "I know that your mother is difficult," he whispered, his words tickling the nape of her neck. "But we can convince her."

"Convince her of what?" Patty cried, tears prickling her eyes. "She'll disown me. She wants me to be this good little girl who goes to college and gets a job and has a husband before she gets pregnant. She'll hate me."

He turned her around to face him. He sketched her face with his fingers, wiping away her tears. He gently raised her chin as he kissed her. He was as tender as the wind, barely brushing her lips with his own. "She won't hate you," he reassured.

"How can you be sure?" She leaned her head on his shoulder.

He smirked. "Because you're too cute to hate." He tickled her sides and she laughed until he drowned her with his kisses. Even if her mother would be a setback, he was not going to let it spoil his elation of being a parent.

A/N: Critiques are very much appreciated! Please leave me a review about what you think about the story, my writing, or both! :)