A/N: OK, this may or may not continue on as a story. I'm not sure yet. To be perfectly honest here, I want somer reviews for this fic to help me decide if it isn't asking for too much. Anyway, this is a bit of humor, bit of fluff if you squint. I think you guys will enjoy this. Not to mention it's quirky. XD

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Accidents Happen

It's been raining a lot here lately. I mean, it's all it really does any more. The weather guy says it's going to pour for the next few days. Sooner or later, I'll need a boat rather than a car to get around. When it rains, though, I never mind. If anything, it's a good change from sunny weather, not to mention I like it streaming down my windows. I like watching all those puddles form in the streets while cars drive through them—that's always the best part. I also tend to write songs while it's raining. You have no idea how great the inspiration is, especially if it's on weekends. Honestly, I can't write songs during the workweek. Believe it or not, I'm not just another unemployed aspiring musician. No, unfortunately, I work. Boy, do I work...at an insurance agency office.

Not exactly the dream job I pictured for myself when I was in high school. Try rocking out to ten thousand people at some stadium. Like Madison Square Garden or something big-time like that. Ironic thing is, that's what I had to go by during the boring (except senior year) high school years: dreams. Heck, I wanted to go to college as much as my single mom wanted me to. My little sis Namine was helping me with my college applications and everything. Then, I found out the cost of tuition. In a word, it was massive. I couldn't afford to go, and state aid can only get you so far. It sucked that I couldn't go, not because I was dirt poor but because I wasn't rich. See what I mean?

So, like any struggling musician, there was a phase in which I hated the establishment, total anarchist. Stupid state couldn't help me go to Julliard or NYU or Columbia—I freaking hated The Man, OK? I, Demyx Vincent Picardi, wouldn't settle for anything less than being a musician for a while. Turns out that I did have to settle, and I'm only a musician three nights a week at the café a block away from my apartment. I wish I could say the tips pay better than my lousy job being secretary (psst, don't tell anyone!) fiddling with fax machines, but it's vice versa. At least the job pays well enough to perfectly get me by without me living on food stamps or Medicaid. It makes me feel good that I can live on my own. I just wish I had had that college education Mom told me I could get. Guess that's just one more far away dream.

I'm recovering from this broken arm I got the other day, a rainy Sunday afternoon as a matter of fact. Luckily, it's the left one and not the one I play guitar with. Then again, I still need that left arm anyway. Crap. Well, the boss advised that I should relax for a few days on medical leave, and I was more than grateful for that. I mean, secretaries are pretty replaceable. The people over at the agency aren't going to freak out if I'm not there. Hm, future career aspirations then: McDonald's, 7-11, or Wal-Mart. That holy trinity of minimum wage, and they're probably all I can hope for, too. As I sit back on my reliable old armchair, channel surfing, I remember the day I broke my arm. Hmph, and it was on a day I was trying to treat myself.

Yeah, I was going to go to the mall to stock up on decent threads in case, I don't know, I happened to meet some pretty girl. Ever since freshman year, it seemed that all of my attempts to charm the ladies failed. Come on, though, I was plenty attractive. Right? I even had the whole musician thing going for me, a thing I thought was supposed to turn chicks on. Back then, I played guitar really well for the first time, my voice had successfully deepened from puberty. Wow, wonder why they weren't all over me. Oh yeah...I was shy, dang it. Speaking from experience, you don't exactly attract the opposite sex when you're shy for some weird reason.

Anyway, before I get off topic here, I was ready to get on the bus, which is only the finest in city transportation. And it's cheaper than buying a car. It's too bad that I already have to worry over money on that type of level at my age. Oh well, it's just the way it goes. I dropped my two quarters through the coin slot, watching the rain splatter on the windows. Ugh, the weather was definitely blech that afternoon, had been earlier that morning, too. Good thing I was going to the mall then, to hang out in a nice, dry place. Heck, along with clothes, I would probably buy some sushi to eat for a snack. Mmm...spicy tuna roll, here I come. Until then, I would have to wait ten minutes while riding this (I admit it) smelly bus before I could do anything worthwhile. I picked out a window seat that had no one else sitting there and just chilled for a bit.

I guess maybe I did like to watch the rain, though sometimes I took it in small doses like everybody else. It poured, so that's probably why I didn't like it that day. But, since it was just me sitting back and relaxing in this seat, I watched the splattering and the splashing. Those little drops can make so much noise, I swear. As I see it, rain is nature's music, which would probably earn me some weird glances if I told people. Once you think about it, though, rain has music's most fundamental elements that give it a unique sound all its own. It has a melody and a bit of a rhythm to it, some non-traditional music notes, and voila. Besides, not every song needs singing, not all the time. I mean, I'm a vocalist too, but I love my guitar so much.

Thinking about music always puts me in a good mood, and that Sunday was no exception. I was kind of humming a little before I took a look around. And I gotta say this: there tends to be pretty bizarre people on the bus. There was an old lady with pink hair who seemed to be studying bingo cards. Must be preparing for the next big game down at the bingo hall, I thought with a smile. I wasn't laughing at her, though, just trying to imagine myself in her situation. It's an artist thing. Or I have ADD, not sure which. Then, there was this guy drinking from a suspicious looking bag. Three guesses about what the contents of that paper bag held, ha! Before I looked back outside again, I saw two teenage guys jamming to an iPod, being idiots by fist pumping by the way.

I remember when I used to do that on buses with my best buddy Axel, and people were giving us the strangest stares. Now, here I was, doing the same thing to these morons. It made me feel old, like I was going to turn (ugh!) thirty in a couple days. Actually, I'm almost twenty-two, but that's still gonna suck, no? Even though there were weird people on the bus (at least they didn't smell like it), nothing really happened en route to the mall. Resting my head against the sort of comfortable seat, I drummed my fingers on the window ledge. Mm, I had this Motion City Soundtrack song playing on repeat in my head. It was so good, one of their earlier songs called "The Future Freaks Me Out." Heh, it sure does. Before I knew it, I saw the mall building a few feet away when the bus stopped. I grinned like an idiot.

I was definitely going to Pac Sun first, then Gamestop, then the food court, Hot Topic, the food court again...Hm, but I wouldn't spend my life savings in one day. So, K, fine—Pac Sun, food court, and then I would go. It wouldn't be that much of a trip, but hey, it was a nice break for me. I deserved it, not to mention I needed it. As a rebel back in middle school, I used to think they invented the mall for the mindless popular kids who craved instant gratification. Then you get there, and you realize it has so much more to offer you than Abercrombie. It's a pantheon of stores that you can pick from. You name it, the mall has it. I couldn't resist it after a while.

So, I was more than ready to take a look around, browse, and most of all, have fun! I'm in my early twenties, the prime of life. I couldn't waste all of my days staring blankly at the fax machine and answering phone calls. Unfortunately, I think I was too eager to get off the bus. See, I managed to squeeze my way past the two kids who were no longer fist pumping. But, the steps were kind of slick from the heavy rain. So, uh, wet steps plus fast movements equals...

Falling down. And not just falling down, since that's never the Demyx way of doing things. I tumbled down the steps, onto the sidewalk, and sprawled out as my head made contact with the sidewalk. I noticed the old lady was toddling down the steps, taking out her cell as she did so.

"Young man!" she yelled...too freaking loud. "Are you all right?"

I think I said something in response—pretty sure I did—but I said something real bright like, "Wha? Wha do ya mean? I'm fiiine."

Then, I got all dizzy and light-headed, seeing things I usually never saw during the day. Maybe when I slept at night, but I doubt I did when I was awake on a normal day. But, yeah...I saw stars along with musical notes. And, if I was seeing straight, maybe I saw Jimi Hendrix's ghost for a second. He was my idol after all. But, no, I was crazy dizzy to the point I was hallucinating dead rock stars who'd burned out like shooting stars. While I heard the old lady screeching into her cellphone (possibly), I passed out.

OK, just to set the record straight, I've always hated hospitals. I mean, nobody likes them anyway, though I don't know for sure about the people who work there. As for me, I think I'm beyond average in terms of fear. Try terror. Ever since Namine got her first shot, which I unluckily, I hated both hospitals and needles. Rock stars get tattoos all the time, I know. I won't be one of them, that's for sure. Hm, maybe I've always despised needles. Don't know, don't care. All I know is that hospitals suck, all right? I didn't expect to meet anyone interesting there when I came to. Unless I could count an insane person hovering over me, threatening me with a possibly overdue tetanus shot. If I had known I would be spending Sunday afternoon in a hospital, I wouldn't have read Stephen King.

Ironic, how I picked up a book of his earlier that morning. I had assumed I would finish it when I got back. Looked like that wasn't happening any time soon. Sighing out of frustration that my plans were ruined, I leaned back against the pillows. Stupid, stiff, uncomfortable hospital "pillows." They might as well be made of steel. Well, on the bright side, at least they hadn't stuck IVs on my arms or anything. Those things are the worst. Oooh, Wheel of Fortune was on that TV over there...

She walked in right then—I didn't know what to call her other than she, with a tone of reverence like that. I think she could have easily been the prettiest girl I'd ever seen in my life. I was stunned.

I'd like to think I'm not a shallow guy, but I just could not stop staring at her as she walked over toward my crappy hospital bed. I swore that some random wind blew about her somewhat curly brown hair, the light beaming in her green eyes like the sun. She was extremely beautiful in a soft, innocent way. I could have been wrong, though. She could have been someone who spat tobacco or partied hard every night. For now, I liked what I saw, my awesome first impression of this...her...Oh God, how did I flirt? I hadn't tried flirting with a chick in ages.

She soon knelt in front of my bed, adjusting something on my forehead that must have been a bandage. Holy crap, I'd been bleeding? Hmph, could have fooled me.

"How are you doing?" she asked with a gentle smile that made my heart go crazy.

I grinned what I hoped was a sexy grin. "Even better now that you're here, beautiful."

Ugh, see by what I meant when I mentioned how I failed charming the ladies in high school? That was a horrible line, and that pretty nurse or nurse's assistant or whatever who could make green scrubs look good knew that. She kind of drew back from me. Should I have said that line in a British accent? I'm thrilled that you're here, love? That's what I should have said with a British accent and a subtle smile not a grin!

"Sorry," I laughed weakly. "But, you really are...uh...beautiful."

She pretended she didn't hear me. "Well, you're lucky that old woman on the bus called 9-1-1. You had a mild concussion, just enough for you to pass out, but it could have been serious. But, we did a CAT scan on you, and you seem to be OK."

I understood why she wanted to be more practical and business-like at that moment, I really did. My heart sank from my lowered self-esteem. I thought for sure that maybe she could like me.

I smiled in a half-hearted kind of way. "How hard did I hit the sidewalk?"

"Hard enough for you to bleed a little. But, luckily, you have a thick head."

"I'm thick all right, stupid enough to actually hit on you."

I was surprised to hear her laugh, which was a nice bell sound. "I've heard worse."

"So, pick-up lines aside, would you mind if I asked you what your name is?"

As a male secretary working at an insurance agency office (how I hate it there, too), I knew where to draw the line. I didn't want to cross that line to the point I would officially scare her off. People can sue over the stupidest things any more. Not like I thought she would sue me.

Though she was definitely not one to scare off, judging by her smile. "I'm Aerith."

I held out my hand. "Demyx."

"I already know."

"Oh. Yeah. Right, heh-heh. You're a nurse."

Pulling up a chair next to my bed, she sat down in it, ready for a full-fledged conversation. Yeesh, I didn't believe I would have ever made it that far with a girl I was attracted to.

Playing with a strand of her hair, she pointed out, "I'm not a nurse, not yet anyway. In two months, I'll be one."

Maybe I shouldn't have been attracted to Aerith this instantly, been so amazed to the point of wanting to get to know her. She could have a tall, athletic, six-foot-two boyfriend who could easily beat me up. I mean, I'm not short for a dude but still...five foot ten isn't that impressive in my opinion. A girl that brilliantly pretty could not possibly be single, especially with those bright eyes, soft lips...No way, no, I would not be drawn to her lips already. I would be tough on myself in case she really did have a tough-as-nails boyfriend.

"Wow...At least your job is worthwhile. You get to help people."

"Why, what's your job?"

"Insurance agency office...uh...secretary."

I got the typical reaction by receiving a smile, almost a laugh, from Aerith when I told her about my so-called job. Heck, it is pretty laughable, but it's not like it had been my life goal. Suddenly, randomly, I wondered what Mom and Namine were thinking right now, hoping they weren't worrying too much. If they knew I was talking, really talking, with a female soon-to-be nurse, they'd probably think I was ill. Whole lack of flirting and all that.

I shrugged at her. "Hey, I'm not gonna be a secretary forever. I actually want to be a musician once I get the chance. For now, I play three nights a week at a café."

Her eyes sparkled with interest. "Where at?"

"Flaming Hearts Café downtown. Obviously, more of an intimate setting, which I really like."

She nodded at me, treating me less like a patient and more like a friend or potential boyfriend, I hoped. I'm telling you, it was the musician vibe.

"I might have to stop by there some time. Do they have good coffee?"

I grinned. "The best I ever drank."

"And your music?"

"Eh, well, since it's a café, something of the Dave Matthews Band variety. Though if I was at a stadium, in a band or something, it would be something way heavier."

"Oh...That's very eclectic."

"That's my music taste for you."

For some strange reason, I sat up in bed again (though, I gotta admit, I was still dizzy from my klutzy fall) to take her hand in mine. Aerith didn't object to this or to me. That was a pretty nice feeling. It wasn't every day when I got to talk to someone who seemed nice and sweet enough. Basically, I liked her a lot already. Didn't know why—or I probably did, since it was so obvious. Aerith was a likeable girl.

"I don't have a boyfriend," she murmured, interlocking her fingers with mine. "If that was what you were thinking. I broke up with him a year ago."

"That sucks."

She smiled wryly. "Well, I did catch him cheating on me."

That sucked even worse than solely breaking up to me. I wasn't one of those guys who would cheat just because he got tired of a girl, and I wouldn't start either. I had to comfort Namine one time when some idiot (censored version of what I actually called him later) cheated on her. Then, I went to his house to punch him in the face. Needless to say, he didn't date another girl for a while after that.

"So," I said, looking at her intently.

"So..."

I took out a piece of paper with lyrics and a pen to write my cellphone number on the back of it.

Usually, I constantly carry paper around with me in case the inspiration strikes me, as cheesy as that sounds. But hey, I'd been inspired a lot.

"Here's my number. No Facebook, since I think they're stupid."

She giggled before writing her number on my hand. "Here's mine. So are you asking me out, Demyx?"

I flashed her a less fake grin. "Maybe, if you want to."

"I'd love to."

What a way to pick up girls for me, at a hospital that had that overly clean smell, the needles, and the stupid pillows. This visit, though, I had met a nurse there, the best, prettiest, and nicest nurse I had ever seen in my life.

Now, as I listen to my iPod (since I gave up on finding anything half-decent on TV), I like recalling that memorable trip to the hospital. Oh, I forgot to explain the broken arm. Well, I slipped on the way out of the hospital, fell down a few stairs. I knew I should have taken the elevator. At least Aerith voluntarily fixed me up one more time before I finally signed myself out. No injuries on the way back. I hope she does want to meet up with me someplace instead of the hospital, because that's getting old already. Once a klutz, always a klutz, I guess. I'm listening to a good song while the first words to my own song are on my mind. "Angel by Aerosmith—it reminds me of her. It's a good song to listen to while I jot down my lyrics.

And I think my cellphone's vibrating in my pocket. She's calling me. I grin like a moron.

A/N: OK, I'm proud to say that I've mastered the ability in leaving possible openings for a potential story here without leaving big, gaping holes. Yay! Anyway, I hoped you liked the randomness of this fic. Who knew that there were guy secretaries in the work force? To say the least. I mean, basically, the fic speaks for itself.

Let me know if you want me to add chapters to this or not. I could easily turn this into a full-fledged story, I just hadn't thought of it at the time I first wrote this.