Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. Original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N : I'm ba-a-a-ack!! Haha.. Here's another one I dedicate to LaPaige for her awesome 101 Prompt's Challenge which also acts as a semi apology for not getting to her other 2 challenges sooner, but I'm working on it, promise, Paige!

Anyway.. As stated in the summary, this one involves Nate, and it's a bit long and honestly a bit incomplete, kinda messy you know, but you'll have to forgive me, that's what happens when you're hit by dozens of ideas and work on like 5 seperate fics at the same time :

Birdhouse is coming soon, that's a Jasoncentric for the Jason lovers, the one I mentioned in the summary, as is Candyfloss, challenged by Paige like months ago. Started another Shaitlyn too, for Broken and a Mitchiecentric for Summer. Oh and a Naitlyn too, for Notes. Yeah, when I said 5 I literally meant 5 fics.. Lol..

But, yeah, that's that and as always, reviews are adored, as are reviewee's. Haha.. Enjoy..

Butterfly.

Nate James was in bed, tossing and turning. It was late but sleep eluded him. His eyes snapped open, not for the first time that night as he lay in bed. After relentlessly trying to go to bed, he had abandoned the thought or any hopes of slumber. He pushed the covers over himself and went over to the window, pushing it open, letting in a small dry breeze which did nothing to ease the sultry unmoving air in the room. Sitting by the window still, calmed by the wind, relaxed by the ease of breathing, his eyes slid close.

"Excuse me, uhm.. Sir?" a timid voice brought him out of his daze.

Nate turned around and face a timid brunette who looked nothing short of star struck, "Oh my gosh," she squealed "It is you, you're Nate James, The Nate James of Connect 3 aren't you?"

"Yea, you can call me Nate," he replied, uncomfortable at being addressed as a sir and aware that the entire class had turned towards them and was listening to every word. He scanned the room that was filed with eager faces and walked away from the window staring down at the streets of New York. "Nothing says Camp like building in the middle of New-Freaking-York," he had initially thought when he first arrived at the tall imposing building in the middle of the city. "Camp" was moved away from the wilderness that year for some construction and improvements that was ongoing at the real camp site.

"Well, I just thought, I mean you're teaching this class," she squeaked and turned flaming red.

"We're all students here," he declared and instantly felt confusion seep into the room, "And I know that it's probably not what you want to hear because you're all excited and hopeful and wanting to learn from The Nate James from Connect 3 as our friend here has put it, but I'm just like any one of you guys," a groan of disbelief swept through the room at those words, " I am, trust me, I'm not perfect, but if you'll let me, I can share what I know and what I've learned and you can share what you know and we'll all walk out of here learning something, cause that's what we're all here to do,"

"Yeah, let's do this!" an animated voice pipes up from behind and the students in the room started clapping.

"And so it begins.." he thought as he began arranging the excited students for the class he had planned out.

At that moment, a honk on the streets woke him up from his moment of reminiscent of his first class. He stared out the window overlooking the streets of dingy New York, before deciding he did want that sandwich for supper after all. Pulling on his jeans and sneakers, he slipped out of his room, making his way to the kitchen, a spot in the building that he so fondly spent time alone, usually in the middle of the night, for a snack and usually accompanied with thoughts.

But this time, the kitchen seemed to be occupied, the lights weren't fully turned on, but the chiller door was slightly ajar and there were some ingredients for a sandwich lying on the counter top next to the stove.

Curiosity getting the better of him and he ventured into the massive chiller pushing the thick plastic strips out of the way and felt the cool chill of air blowing on his face. He made his way through several aisles of frozen foods before noticing a figure halfway climbing one of them, pulling at a particular basket on the top.

He recognized her as Mackenzie Anna from his class. It wasn't that hard, she was the girl with the first name as a last name and a last name as a first name. Or, well more affectionally known as the girl with the purple highlights. Her medium long blonde hair with its purple highlights were usually pulled into a tight ponytail neatly behind her head but now they were loosely tied up with strands hanging on her face, greatly contrasting with her porcelain white complexion.

Her head turned toward his footsteps and as a result she missed her footing and came crashing down along with the basket of tomatoes.

"You know there's a reason we have people to cook for us," he commented as he helped her up before collecting the tomatoes that were sprawled all over the floor of the chiller.

"And there's a reason why I don't wake them at 2 for a sandwich," she said, helping him collect the fallen vegetables on the floor.

"Speaking of which, it's way past curfew, Anna," Nate reprimanded seriously using her last name, a thing he's picked up since becoming a counselor.

"You're out," she stated as they made their way to the chiller door.

"I got hungry and besides, I'm a counselor,"

"Well, I got hungry too," she countered and before Nate could say anything, they walked into a very locked chiller door. After they both tried pulling the door open to no avail, she turned to face him, shivering lightly as a blast of cold air blew right at them.

"You didn't happen to have closed the door when you came in, did you?" she questioned.

"I.. Don't remember," he admitted honestly trying to pry the door open unsuccessfully once again.

xxx

"I'm Mackenzie Anna," she offered, breaking the awkward silence but was greeted with nothing but as the words hang between them as cold as the chiller they were in, "I take your class," she said with a small smile, obvious trying to veer the course of conversation towards something more pleasant.

"Well, that's a real coincidence, I teach my class," Nate snapped back sarcastically and she raised her eyebrows.

"Well, aren't you a real ray of sunshine?"

"In case you haven't noticed, we're stuck in a huge refrigerator," he snapped.

"In case you haven't noticed, you're the one who shut us in the huge refrigerator to start with," Mackenzie countered, mimicking his tone of voice.

"Well you're the one who wandered out past curfew into this huge refrigerator,"

"You know except for the fact that I can't, I'd leave if you want me to,"

"Can you stop screwing around?! We're stuck in a refrigerator!" Nate snapped. Of all the people to be stuck in a refrigerator with in subzero temperatures in, he was stuck with Mackenzie Anna. Well, it wasn't as though he knew this student particularly well, class didn't exactly call for much conversation, but the fact that her hair was purple pretty much said enough about her.

"Oh, I'm not screwing around. I'm just as upset as you are. Dismayed, maybe even brokenhearted, but definitely Not screwing around," she quipped in all seriousness.

"Do you just like the sound of your voice?" Nate wondered aloud.

"No, I just dislike awkward silences, you?" she quipped, eyes never moving away from him.

"Well I hardly ever dislike anything or anyone, but I definitely dislike being stuck in the refrigerator with you,"

"Oooh, ouch," Mackenzie retorts whilst making the stabbing motion at her heart as he watched attempting to make him smile. Even a little bit, "Guess this makes us sorta married huh? Abhorrence swelling between two people in a confined space till you can hardly breathe but stuck together anyhow?"

"No no, married people can get a divorce," he played along.

"Granted. You know what, we split the cash. You can have the kids, I'll take the car," she said in a simple voice, like she was just accepting what he said for what it was.

"Whoa whoa whoa, no way, isn't it that supposed to be the typical male stereotypes? Don't give a crap about the wife or kids; just the overpriced absurd piece of metal?" he retorted incredulously.

"Hey, it's got passenger side airbags! And I really want a 'stang, besides doesn't it sicken you that you'd have to live up to the most common and base of male stereotypes?"

"So it's okay for You to live up the most common and base male stereotype?" he asked, intrigued by her rationale.

"Cause I'm not a male," she answered as a matter of factly, "Doh,"

"And that makes it okay?"

"Absolutely," she answered without even a trace of doubt in her voice，staring at him still, wondering if it was ever possible to make him laugh, or even just smile. And one side of his mouth twitched up, turned into a little smile before turning into a chuckle before evolving into a full laugh.

"Well, glad to see it finally fell out," she chuckled along with him, triumphant that she's squeezed a laugh out of one third of the teenage sensation of the century.

"What finally fell out?" he asked, confused.

"That stick up your ass,"

"I do not have a stick…" he started but got cut off.

"Oh snap, found it again," Mackenzie shook her head in fake disappointment.

"I do not have a…" and once again he was cut off.

"Hey, it's fine, you're a counselor here, you're allowed to be uptight,"

"I am NOT uptight!" he snapped, flabbergasted, Mackenzie Anna was a lot less frustrating in a class.

"Fine, you're not, you're an absolute joy, so what's your favorite movie?" the girl with the purple highlights asked instead, changing the topic so quickly that his mind barely registered it.

"Dumbo," he said, the word coming out of his mouth barely went through his head, immediately regretting it the moment the first syllable was out of his mouth.

"Dumbo?" she blinked.

"I have a grade school mentality when it comes to movies," he unnecessarily explained.

"No, no. I love Dumbo," she admitted sincerely.

"You love Dumbo?"

"Yeah,"

"This is really strange," he narrowed his eyes at the girl in front of him.

"What is?" she asked, her turn being confused.

"Well, just when I written you off for good, you drop this whole Dumbo thing on me? This gives me a brief flash of maybe feeling I don't dislike you as much as I thought but you know what it'll pass so no need to get a big head,"

"You think it'll pass?" she smirked. It really was quite ridiculous, funny even, the whole disturbing and time consuming dance they were doing. She was amused and though he'd never admit it, he was too.

"It may, it most likely will, unless.. No. It definitely will pass. In fact, I think it just did. Yep. There it goes. Gone," he scoffed, waving his hand as though swatting a fly away.

"You like me, don't you? You really like me," she said faking a triumphant smile as though she was receiving an award, sending her music instructor the cheekiest smile she could muster.

"Anna, can you please stop torturing me?" Nate groaned, getting colder by the minute, verbal sparring definitely does Not help keep you warm.

"I want to, really, but I can't," she replied, "There's just something about you, James, you bring out the sadist in me,"

"Wow, you enjoy the pain of others? I absolutely cannot tell,"

"Look, things on the surface are not always the same as when you put them in context with you know, under the surface, sorta. Kinda.. I.. think,"

It took a moment, but even after the words had settled in, he had no idea what she just said. And he admitted it almost without thought as he rested his head on the wall.

"Neither do I. But the intent was sincere," she admitted as well, "Anyway, I think we really should just bite the bullet here,"

"English please," he commanded, turning his head to face her.

"All this verbal sparring," she explained, "It's getting a little dangerous and I think we should just go on a date before someone gets hurt,"

"Anna…" he started cautiously, voice serious though he was unsure on how to address the situation.

"Oh come on, you know you want to," she said flirtily.

"Look I'm an counselor here, and even if I wasn't.. There is absolutely nothing between us.. No sparks, no drama, no butterflies, nothing.. And.." he began, stumbling over his words as he went.

"Whoa whoa whoa.. Back up.. THE Nate James, a third of THE rock band of the century Connect 3, wants butterflies? Mesh notes, teddy bears and butterflies, Butterflies?" she asked in disbelief as thought the last word was something gag worthy.

"That's not what I said," he defended himself immediately.

"But you said butterflies," she accused.

"Yea but…"

"So you're a girl," she concluded.

"I am NOT a girl," Nate defended himself, just as he was beginning to think she wasn't all that infuriating.

"Hey don't get me wrong, it's cute and all, I just never thought…" she started saying but this time, he cut her off.

"I am not.. Cute!" he snapped. Talking to Mackenzie was like talking to 10 other regular girls.

"Right," she nodded understandingly.

"I am NOT!"

"I said right," she stated as a matter of factly.

"But you didn't mean it," he argued.

"Oh come on, I SO meant it," she said sincerely.

"See, you're doing it again, there it is, right there, sarcasm,"

"I said I meant it,"

"It's not what you said, it's the way you… Oh My God, I am a girl!" he gasped as he caught himself in mid sentence, "Okay, that's not the point here, what was I saying?"

"Before the awesome revelation of your actual gender or after?"

"Before,"

"Butterflies?" Mackenzie offered, recounting the conversation they were having.

"Before that,"

"You're a counselor here?" she asked.

"Yes, I am, I am and I'm like 10 years older than you," he said, remembering what he wanted to say before being sidetracked.

"Well, I'm 17, so either you're 27 or just really bad at math,"

"Fine, I'm 2 years older than you, but I'm still a counselor here and you're a student," he laid out the facts.

"I thought you said we're all students here," she countered.

"I did.." he admitted slowly, inwardly wishing he hadn't.

"So then what's the problem?"

"I.. You.. I.. We.." he began but stuttered all along the way.

"Yes, I am well aware of the nature of pronouns thank you very much and if I'm not mistaken, I believe you're here to teach dance not English anyways, so what is the problem here if we're all students, are of different genders, and without that much of an age difference between us," she started before realizing Nate had a blank look plastered on his face, "What?"

"You're talking faster than my brain processes language,"

"In simpleton terms that your brain CAN interpret, I am asking for ONE date, what exactly is the problem with that?"

"Because it'll be.. Wrong," he struggled for words.

"And that would be bad?" she asked, as though confused.

"Okay, I'll tell you what, we get out of here tonight, without the need to thaw out a limb then we'll go get that sandwich okay," Nate replied, frustrated.

"Ah, so you concede?"

"I am not conceding, this is what you want, I'm giving you what you want, why can't you just bloody hell leave it alone?"

"Fine, come on then," she got to her feet, stretching them out. He was surprised they weren't frozen to the spot, she was wearing shorts and a sweat shirt, he had jeans on and had already started to shiver in the cold.

"Where are we going?" Nate asked but followed her suit nonetheless.

"Out," she said simply.

"It's locked," he stated, mimicking her tone, "We're locked in, remember?" wondering if the cold had gotten to her brain.

"Yeah, but we can climb up and navigate through vents and find our way out," and the statement was met by a skeptically raised eyebrow, "Eventually,"

"Yeah, and if we wait, they'll find us eventually too with far less risk of dying of heat in a confined space and being found because of the smell of our rotting decaying body,"

"Well it's that or being thawed out in the morning, your call,"

"I prefer being thawed out thank you very much, technology's great these days, they'll find a way to revive our dead frozen bodies," he rambled as she picked looked around for something that could come in handy to pry open a vent cover.

"Your frozen body," she corrected as she climbed onto a rack of frozen goods and began prying at the corners of a particular vent cover with a fork she found.

"What?" he sputtered.

"Your frozen body," she repeated without looking at him, "I'm going through the vents, and when I get out, I'll express to them your desire to remain frozen till they invent the technology to thaw out dead people and bring them back to life," and with one last hard tug, it fell with a clang and she jiffied up like a pro.

"Hey, wait.!" he called out after her before climbing up the same rack after her as well.

"I am so going to regret this," he thought as he hauled himself up on the rack and pulled himself up onto the vent.

xxx

"High. We are very, very high," Nate gasped before leaning back in from the window he was peering out.

"I've been higher," she said simply looking out the window.

"I meant distance from the ground," he stated emphasizing his fear of pummeling to his death off a multi-story building in the middle of the city.

"What are you, scared?" she turned to look at him.

"Well, yeah," he reluctantly shared.

"And that stops the greats?" she challenged.

"It's stopping this great,"

"You're not chickening out cause you're gonna have to actually sort of go on a date with me once we get out are you?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"One, it is not a date.. And two, I am NOT chickening out,"

"Prove it then," she challenged as she climbed out the window and grabbed hold onto the plumbing on the side of the building.

Fifteen frightful minutes later and two close shaves of falling off the rocky rusted plumbing plunging to his death, Nate was seated in a dingy Chinese restaurant downtown opposite one Mackenzie Anna who seemed to be having no problem in taking charge of ordering supper for them both.

"We'll have.. That," she pointed at the menu, "That," her finger moved down the menu again, "That," he looked down at the menu in his hands, barely making out the intangible foreign words on them before looking back up at her again, "That, and.. That," she smiled up at the Chinese boy handing him back the menu in her hands.

"I am not eating anything that I can't pronounce," he declared after handing back the menu as well.

"Relax, we ordered noodles, roast pork belly, honey roasted pork, fried dumplings, and some soggy lettuce drowned in sauce,"

"You know Chinese?" his mouth hung open in shock.

"Yeah, it started with free tickets to this dude's concert, his stuff is great by the way, but anyhow, it was all in Chinese so it was all gibberish to me but the music was so awesome I just couldn't bring myself to walk out and you now, that 2 hours kinda got me interested in the language a little bit, if only just to decipher his lyrics, so yeah.."

As flabbergasted by her speed as he was intrigued by her, he then asked her what music she was into. Which launched them into an animated talk about Basement Jaxx, which turned into a discussion about George Michael, which turned into an argument about the classification of music into genres. They'd agreed that the only real mainstream music genre was classical, which then led to listing of favorite composers. He was a Brahms fan, while she liked her fair share of Hindemith.

Before long, after a slightly cautious start from both parties, or at least on his part, they began speaking freely about a huge range from whether Oscar Wilde's dramatic downfall due to his imprisonment after being convicted of "gross indecency" with other men was justified or not to her confession of her early hatred of German composer and music theorist Paul Hindemith.

"Well let's face it," he said, "Which child did like Hindemith anyway?"

Half an hour later, right before being kicked out the restaurant they were talking about the best way to melt cheese and wondering how on earth they'd gone so far off-topic.

"Now tell me that wasn't fun," she smirked at him, "Master and Commander,"

"The.. Game?" he asked, confused.

"Nope, just something I want you to call me from now on," she chuckled, "I'll see you in class then, sir," she said in all seriousness before giving a salute and taking the first few steps up the staircase.

"Goodnight, Mackenzie," he called out after her and he watched her disappear up the stairs, grinning like an idiot.

And then came the butterflies...