AN: possibly this needs more editing. very little plot, or fluff at all. but read it anyway, to make my day! I wrote this just after an exam, which may explain the standard and the POV change to my normal one. enjoy!

Disclaimer: If it were mine, I wouldn't post it on I'm makign no money from it and all characters/ settin gbelong to Harper Lee/ publishers/ movie people. there is no garauntee abotu spelling or that the plot (such as it is, in this one) hasn't been taken from a variety of other published books. but if you feel it's your work and I'm takign full credit, by al meanse contact me. (but not through a lawyer- email is fine)

oh, and please reveiw. I like reveiws. . .

You don't seem at all surprised to see me, not at all surprised even though it was midnight and I'd just woken you up and the house next door was on fire. You just said, "Well, in that case" and disappeared. You forgot I was there, I think, because you just turned around, opened a cupboard door and got out a clean shirt. You put it on, slowly, as it was cold, and I saw as you turned around your chest, still muscled, still tanned, though how you managed it, I'll never know. Then you closed the door, did up your shoes and tidied the bed before flinging open the window and climbing out to join me. "You wake up this side" you murmured, before turning and running, swiftly, silently, across the street to wake Stephanie. She woke up that side and you ran all the way to the station, Eula May wasn't manning the phone at this time of night.

I know that because soon after people had begun pulling out furniture, the engine arrived. I lost sight of you be then but later, when you were summing up the damage in the calm, detached way you had, you explained you'd woken the children before moving to help the ground crew.

When they're all gone home, apart from Stephanie, I felt lonely. I was standing talking to Stephanie when you came out again, having, I presume, put Scout and Jem to bed. With a smile I felt was completely unwarranted, Stephanie left, leaving us standing in the dark, ruined space that had been my house.

It was only when you draped a rug around me that I realised how cold I had been. Although Stephanie's light was on, neither of us trusted her to be going to bed. Like the Gentleman you are, you offered me your arm and escorted me to your home. I

t wasn't the first time I'd been there and I'm sure it won't be the last, but it was the strangest circumstances that I'd ever been inside it. To have you apologise but usher me into the kitchen where we would be warm only stopped being surreal because of the way you handled it. Then you brewed some tea, not speaking the whole while.

It was while you were coming out of the pantry, tea in hand, that I noticed your limp, and the deep gash that had caused it. You seemed unperturbed by the caked blood and absorbed in filling the tea, but, now I looked closely, I could see there was a stiffness in your shoulders that wasn't normally there. However your hands were steady as you picked up the kettle and calmly poured me a cuppa.

"So" you sighed, sitting down and leaning back, "What will you do now, Maudie?" Gently picking up your cup, you took a sip. Unable to wait anymore, I said, "Atticus, your leg."

You looked up, "That?" pulling your leg out from under the table you carefully rolled back the trouser leg. I hissed as I saw the gash. It was long, winding from just below the knee to the outside top of your ankle.

I couldn't help notice how young your legs were though, long and lean and bronzed and not too muscled. You inspected the cut a while longer, trying to see it with your good eye. Finally you gave up, "It's no use, Maudie. Will you clean it for me? I can hardly see it myself." Nodding, I pushed back my chair, moving it and myself nearer to you. You stood then, getting a bowl, towel and water as well as some tape. Sitting back down, you asked me again, "What about your house?"

Sponging away the blood as I talked, I found myself explaining things to you in a way I don't normally with anyone. It was only when you mentioned the tea that I realised your leg was clean now, that I could bandage it. Blushing a little, and trying to tell myself it was the heat (which only made it worse) I reached for the tape. Ever the gentleman, even when your leg is being kept prisoner by a crazy woman whose house has just burnt down, you passed it to me, saying, "Than I'll take care of the paperwork for you."

It wasn't until you spoke I realised you'd drunk your tea and listened to me for almost forty minutes. I smiled, murmured a low, "Thankyou Atticus" And turned to go.

You stood too, rolling down you trouser leg, feeling my work as you went, "You've done that well, Maudie" you smile, and then carefully push the chairs away and set the cups on the bench ready for the morning wash. "I had a good patient" I return, and you laugh softly and offer me your arm. "Stephanie will be imagining stories left right and centre." You say, leading me out the door.

You walk with me all the way to her door and say to Stephanie, "Miss Maudie was discussing what legal action we should take to give her what she wants in the way of housing." I notice the honorific 'Miss' again and manage to make myself say, "Yes Stephanie, and now, let's get inside."

As I enter, you gently remove the rug from around my shoulders, smile once, a true smile, then limp back across the road.

reveiw please? this story doesn't really seem one of my better ones, so I'm sure there's lots to say along the lines of spelling, grammar and whatnot. (such as lack of fluff AND plot)

thanking you in advance,

sderai