It's ridiculous that I have this many to thank for such a short deal, but I do. Thanks to kakidoll for the beta (shame on me), to Queen of Sin and Amanda Hawthorn for grins and ego boosts, to Brooke Greene for her many opinions, and a big thanks, along with an apology, to TDCSI (Trudy, we're now even. This means the guilt trip can stop!)

Don't choke on the fluff.


Does it count in the first grade, or even the fifth?

When your craft project gets out of hand and she shares her glue with you, or gives you all of her hippo animal crackers at snack-time, is it true?

Can it be counted as real when she gives you the chocolate milk she took from her best friend that she was going to drink, or when she holds your hand at recess instead of tripping you like she does all the other boys?

In junior high, when you got paired up with some girl for the science fair and she actually did work with you instead of just sitting around, soaking up credit for the work you did, did it mean more than what you think it may have? I mean, she did stay the night at your house on more than one occasion. Admit it, you loved those rumors.

What about high school? You were, without a doubt in anyone's mind, the biggest nerd there. Made fun of to the point of it nearly being a religion at your school, but your crush didn't poke fun at all. She possessed a beauty that even Narcissus would've been jealous of, and she still talked to you like you were any other person around the school. No rumors there, but she was your first real crush.

Does it count with your first real girlfriend?

Others around you had their first relationships long before you ever did, but you didn't mind it. Well, you did, but it wasn't all that bad. You had other things more worthy of your time to fill the day with. But when you asked her out and she really said yes, it was the most amazing thing you had to fill up your day.

Things with her were so nice for the longest time. People even complimented you on how good you looked together. You never considered before that it may be possible for a person to spend their whole life with just one other, but it really did seem like a plausible thing with her.

Then it happened. Her niece had left animal crackers at her apartment and she wouldn't share them with you. Not even just the hippos.

-----

You're introduction to her was of the professional capacity. It wasn't casual, no matter how much you'd like for it to have been. You went back to your seat after shaking her hand and instantly wished you'd met her in a coffee shop or the grocery store, certainly someplace other than at a droning lecture.

But you didn't. It was a droning lecture where you met her. And that sucked.

So, you always did your best to keep in touch with her…even if it meant making stuff up. How was she to know there wasn't actually a case in Vegas involving a headless Icee vendor? Whatever you had to do to keep her talking to you was done, and every time you talked, it felt different. It felt better.

Between your initial bond with that first girl long ago and the last one, there were a few in between. Some with meaning a little deeper than others, and some with women a little deeper than others. But something about this woman just seemed…dangerous to you. And the weirdest thing about it was that you really didn't care.

So time passed and she came closer. How does that fair in the originality game?

Games- so many played between the both of you.

You didn't care how dangerous she was over the phone, but now that she was right in front of you, she'd turned into the most frightening being you'd ever laid eyes on. How could you deal with that…and her perfectly blasé confessions?

You knew you liked her. You'd suspected she'd been real in her admittance of liking you, so why not go for it? Scared she wouldn't give you some wheat crackers, or share her superglue? Think she'd trip you up at lunch like Catherine did to all the other guys?

-----

You could name the event that drove you if your mother forced you to, but the thoughts that took you there are a fantastic blur. Whatever made you decide to go to her and confess what the both of you knew you'll probably never be able to fully explain to her…but you really don't think she needed it by the look on her face.

Together, it works. Not always very well, but it still does to a point.

Problems don't last long between you because you don't see the point of it. Why spend all day bitching at or ignoring each other when you can spend it actually enjoying the fact that the other person is around you?

The best thing of all-- you know that every time you have an exceptionally hard day at the lab- a day full of Hodges, Ecklie and Catherine screeching about some type of political crap that you try to phase out- you'll walk into your office and find a baggie with nothing but hippos in it waiting on your desk to make your a day a little better.

-----

Over the years you've done so many interviews that you've lost count. In those, you've heard a heap of excuses for what it is that people do day in and day out. Some excuses you roll your eyes at for you've heard them God knows how many times before and they have yet to make sense to you. Other excuses seem to stick with you every time you hear them. One of your personal favorites has always been, "Love makes you do stupid shit." Out of all the excuses you've heard, that's probably the truest. Why? Because it does.

Standing in a room with four co-workers as you semi-profess to your secret affair with a woman that also works with you all… Definition- stupid shit.

She might not be the first in your life to count. She may not truly be the original love in your world, but you do know that she's been there, loving you back for long enough to matter more than anyone before her.

And as you sit here now, in the corner of the shop, watching her hand the owner your credit card and turn to Catherine with an appreciative smile, you try not to think of the bill to come. All you think of is that Sara is okay, that she is happy, and so are you.

Love might make you do stupid shit –like pay an extravagant amount of money for a dress that'll be worn once- but that shit is so worth the love.


Everybody still with me?

Good. That means you can review. You have fun with that.

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