My first Fimogen fic. I just wanted to do something with the heights theme, because I thought it was quite poetic. Anyways, let me know what you think.

The thing about heights is that every time you look down it's like there's this unconscious desire to jump. Fiona Coyne never liked heights. They scared her. Which is rather ironic since she'd lived in New York City for a long time, with skyscrapers everywhere and all.

Heights. Fear of jumping. Fear of falling. Yes, that constant fear of falling.

Being in the Ferris wheel, just about to go all the way to the top, meant that she would soon experience that feeling. Yet, there she was… because of Her.

It started going up. Then, stop.

That wasn't so bad, a few feet above the ground.

"I would call this a total success," Imogen said proudly. Casual conversation. As always. "And all because of you, the one and only Miss Fiona Coyne" she added, grinning. Oh, that smile, Fiona thought. That beautiful, perfect, world-lightening smile. It certainly lit Fiona's world.

It went up again. Then, stop.

Okay, so a few more feet. She could handle this.

"I think cotton candy should be included in the daily diet of Canadians. It should be like the national meal or something" Imogen being Imogen. Now it was Fiona's turn to grin, though she was pretty sure she didn't look half as good as the girl sitting next to her; probably she just looked stupid. Just a goofy smile.

"I think that would also make dentists national heroes" She answered. She was used to this. It was a natural conversation between them.

Imogen grinned again.

Up. Stop.

Now they were at the top of the wheel.

All right, don't look down. If you don't look down everything will be okay. No desire to jump, no nothing. Just focus on her.

So she turned to Imogen instead. She found her eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes she had secretly been admiring for months now. She felt something in her stomach, something very similar to what she felt when she looked down. But she wasn't looking down. She didn't want to jump. Yet…

".. what do you think?" Imogen interrupted her thoughts. Fiona turned to her lips.

Not helpful at all. Focus, Coyne.

"Uhm.. I think it's… kind of… yeah" she blabbered.

"I know, you weren't paying me any attention. But I don't mind, it's kind of cute." She said with a warm smile. "I was just saying that maybe next year we could make a spring carnival… different theme, same cotton candy!"

"Yeah! Sounds great Imogen" Fiona said honestly, even though there was some bitterness in her response. The future, and right now, the near future, didn't seem so bright for her. "You have great ideas, you know?"

"Thanks" Imogen said. She blushed a little. Which is something people do when anyone compliments them. Totally normal.

But then there was that smile again.

Up again. Stop.

"Whoa". That one took Fiona by surprise.

"I know… stomach dropping!" Imogen exclaimed.

Now they were on their way to the ground (safe land, at last!), but they were still a little too high for Fiona's taste.

"I've never been a fan of heights" Fiona confessed.

And then, she looked down. And she felt that "something" in her stomach. It was so sudden, she was unprepared, she didn't know how to react. So she looked to the girl sitting next to her.

She looked into her eyes. The feeling didn't disappear. She looked into her lips. It was still there. But then she realized… it was different.

And suddenly, out of the blue, and still looking at her friend, she started talking. She said something… she tried saying something, she was sure something half rational had come out of her mouth… but then she sensed that the only way to calm that feeling was to lean in and just…

Her lips.

Fiona always thought that jumping would end up in something painful. That's why she was so scared of looking down. But after that moment, she decided that maybe looking down wasn't so bad. It certainly didn't feel bad. It didn't taste bad. It didn't smell bad.

Imogen's lips, Imogen's scent, Imogen's skin… it was the best thing Fiona had ever sensed in her entire life.

If jumping meant having this every time, then she would do it as many times as she had to. She would jump… for her.