Tacklehugs

This was originally chapter 1 from my Songfiction Niche I intended to start. About three days after I posted it I was informed by a reader that ff dot net doesn't allow songfics, so I decided to pull the idea and rewrite the two chapters.

This is the reformatted version of Tacklehugs. :)

He really should go over and talk to her. Preferably without stammering his tonsils out as he usually does.

But he's rooted to the spot, watching her across the room from him chattering away to Bullseye about something or other. Whatever it is, he can't hear. Which is just as well, really...considering even the sound of her voice sends warm chills running up and down his spine.

He never had any problems knowing who he was until Jessie arrived in Andy's room. Before she appeared on the scene, he was Buzz Lightyear of Star Command, happy to help out other toys, never thinking much about the situation when it came to saving Woody, and always believing that his fate lay in the hands of a child. Now, he's found himself acting different – because all he can think about is her.

Sure, it's a crush, he doesn't dispute the fact he's majorly smitten with the cowgirl. However the fantasy is much different to the reality. In his fantasy, he'd be able to go straight over, plop down next to her, take her hand, and tell her she's the only one for him. In reality, he's still standing there working out exactly what to say, and he hasn't gotten far because he's transfixed just watching the curve of her mouth as she talks casually to Bullseye.

If only she would make a move, so he didn't have to feel this shy all the time. He might be a gibbering mess if she did, but at least she'd be making the first step so he doesn't feel like he has to...

"Hey Buzz?"

He blinks. Jessie's sitting upright and looking across at him. Crap. Now what?

'Whatcha doing over there? You look a bit lost and alone.' She calls, and he can only nod a little in reply. She grins broadly at him, and he feels his stomach jingle with nerves as she picks herself up and starts to come over.

What should he do? What should he say? His brain gabbles furiously as he racks the deepest recesses of it for something to say. But as it turns out...

'Whump!'

...he doesn't need to say anything. Becaue he suddenly realises that while he's been dreaming away about what to say, she's taken the bull by the horns - quite literally - and tackled him to the floor. He looks up at the cowgirl sitting on his middle, pretending to reap the applause of an imaginary crowd.

"Uh, Jessie?"

"Yep?" She gazes down with big emerald eyes, resting her hands on his shoulders, and his brain begins to melt all over again.

"Wh-wha-what was that for?"

"You looked lonely. I thought you could use a tacklehug."

"Oh, uh...th-thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Jess?"

"Yeah?" She's still in place, sitting on his middle.

"Whats a tac-tack-tacklehug?"

"Well, its a tackle and you end it in a hu- oh!" She grins. "Seems I did the tackle without the hug."

"Uh..." his wings are by now threatening to pop out with each syllable she utters. This is stuff his dreams are made of – talking about hugs and other related stuff, not to mention the fact she's basically straddling him...

His thoughts are cut off as she leans down and braces herself against his plastic chest, wrapping her arms snugly around his neck. Her braid flops forward and smacks him lightly in the face, making him jump. She feels his slight jump from her hair attacking him, and leans back.

"Oops, did I getcha?" She asks with a grin, resting her hand gently over his cheek. He just stares up at her, his brain feeling like a goo puddle in the back of his head.

"Uh, I th-think I'll be o-okay," he manages, and she removes her hand from his cheek, leaning back down to finish the hug.

He wonders if he should chance it and put his hands up to wrap around her waist. As her head finds the correct place on his shoulder, he decides to go for it and hesitantly begins to raise his arms, finally finding a not too intrusive spot in the middle of her back and clasping his fingers together. Her cotton body is soft under his touch – he never realised before how vulnerable she feels. But she also feels warm and touchable; and without realising it, the familiar warmth rises up his cheeks even as she removes herself from the hug.

"Buzz?"

"Ye-yeah?"

"Why have you gone pink?" She questions.

"Uh...uh..."

Jessie giggles and waits, pretending to inspect her nails as he again searches for something to say.

"Well, it's...see, that is...I mean," Buzz starts, falling over his words. Jessie stops her pretend inspection of her nails and regards him, raising her eyebrows.

"I wasn't ex-expecting to be tac-tacklehugged." He manages at last.

She grins, starting to let him up from the floor. "Well, ya better get used to it, Buzz! There's a lot more hugs, tackles -and- tacklehugs where that one came from, and most of them are gonna occur when ya least expect it!"

He picks himself up off the floor as she giggles again and runs back to Bullseye. He doesn't know what to say to her last comment. All he can foresee a lot more stuttering from himself and a lot more giggling from her.

But if it means he gets to hug her, and have her pay attention to him - he'd take a million of her tacklehugs every day, for the rest of his life.