Chapter One

So I wrote this a few weeks ago after I finished Silence, because let's be honest, I think I'm in love with Patch. (Who isn't?) It seemed a lot better while I was writing it, but oh well. It will most definitely satiate any desire you have for Patch/Nora fluff. It might even be a bit excessive. But can there be such a thing as too much Patch?

The title is part infamous Glee episode, part song by my favorite band (The Script), and all cheesiness.

Despite its topic this is PG-13 rated at the worst. Probably even less than that, but just to be safe. No blatant spoilers but if you don't want to know anything about Silence I'd wait before reading this.

I snuggled closer to Patch, and he tightened his grip around my shoulder. We were laying on his couch, a movie playing in the background, though neither of us was really paying attention to it. My head rested on his chest, and I turned my chin up, offering my lips for a kiss. With a slight grin he bent down, brushing his lips against mine tenderly. I've heard it said that anyone is a good kisser if you're in love with them, but I'm not convinced. Regardless of the fact that I am completely in love with him, Patch is an amazing kisser.

He pulled away slightly and chuckled when my head trailed after him, not ready to be done yet. "Angel," he purred as I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer again. His lips were back on mine, harder this time. I responded enthusiastically, shifting my position so that I was sitting in his lap, my arms wrapped around his neck. I shivered slightly as his cool hands pushed up my shirt, splaying out over the small of my back. Time with Patch seemed to have no meaning—we could have stayed there for just seconds or for hours, I wasn't really sure. All I knew—and all I needed to know—was that I was perfectly happy with him.

I gasped as his picked me up and laid me down on the couch, our bodies so close that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. I probably didn't respond in the best way, given my decision not to have sex with him yet, by wrapping one of my legs around his torso. At that moment, I just wanted the slight distance between us to disappear. Patch moaned, a low, guttural noise, and his hands slowly started trailing higher. I stiffened, though, when I felt his fingers on the clasp of my bra.

Patch froze, and slowly extricated himself from my grasp with a shaky breath. He paused for a moment, then gave a small smile and said, "Nothing until you're ready, Angel."

I sat up, too, biting my lip. "I love you," I whispered meekly, as if it could make up for what had just happened.

Patch pulled me close to him and I buried my head against his chest. Planting a kiss on my forehead, he replied, "I love you, too. More than anything." There was a silence between us, one neither of us felt necessary to fill, until at last Patch said, "Let's finish the movie then, shall we?"

I nodded in agreement, and reclaimed my comfy position against Patch's side. Still, I didn't pay much attention to the movie. My thoughts were occupied elsewhere, and I was barely conscious of the characters as they finally found their happy endings. Patch had chosen one of those cheesy chick-flicks for us—which, I'll admit, I kind of liked. Still, the only thing that really penetrated my thoughts was the soothing movement of Patch's chest as he breathed and the feeling of his hand in mine.

When the credits rolled, I felt Patch waiting for me to stand, and say I had to be home, as I normally did. But I wasn't ready to go yet. I turned up to Patch, and he met my gaze with inquisitive eyes. "Can I ask you something?" I asked.

"Anything."

I paused for a moment, thinking of how to begin. "Why do you even…I mean, you can't…" I cut myself off, a blush rising to my cheeks as Patch watched me, amused. I took a deep breath. This was Patch. I could ask him anything; I knew that. I started again, saying, "You can't feel anything."

He chuckled. "That's not a question, Angel."

"No," I agreed. "What I was wondering, though, is…If you can't even feel it, why do you…I mean, why would you even want to…sleep with me?"

Patch studied me for a moment, playing with a curl of hair by my face. "Is it not enough that I'm in love with you?" he asked thoughtfully.

I shook my head. "Of course it's enough, Patch. But…I mean, you wouldn't even enjoy it," I said, cringing at my own words.

He grinned, tracing a finger gently down my arm. "You don't think I enjoy this?" he asked. I glared at him; he knew that wasn't what I meant. "I love you, Nora. It's all I've ever wanted to be with you. I've spent hundreds of years without you, and all I wanted now is to be yours and for you to mine, and I just want to know we belong together, every way." He pressed his forehead against mine. "And I never want to deprive you of anything you would have had in a normal life. I've screwed up your life so bad, the moment I came into it. I want you to have as close to a normal life as possible."

I kissed him lightly, feeling a bit light-headed at the depth of his words. I waited for a moment, sensing Patch wasn't finished. "And…sometimes, when you touch me, I think I feel something. As if the wind had just brushed my skin—I'm not even sure if it's there, or if it's just wishful thinking. But I wonder, if being with you…in that way…would somehow…" He shook his head, almost laughing at himself. "I don't know. It sounds crazy."

"You think, if we had sex, you would be able to feel…something?" I asked, quietly contemplating his words.

He shrugged. "I don't know. It's just a theory. I just feel so much for you internally, I guess I don't see how none of it could transfer externally."

I pressed my lips together, concentrating. Patch had given up everything he wanted for me—to be human. Twice he had had the opportunity—the very thing he had been trying to achieve since he fell—and twice he had turned it down. For me. I knew the pain it caused him, to not be able to feel anything. And if there were even the slightest hope I could change that, what kind of girlfriend would I be not to jump at the chance?

With that, my mind was made up. Once again I leaned forward and pressed my lips abruptly against his. His arms locked around me, though this time, the stayed stationary. With shaking hands, I traced my fingers down his chest, coming to rest on the band of his jeans. He pulled back slightly. "Angel…" he murmured questioningly. Undeterred, I moved my fingers and began to try to undo the button to his jeans. Before I could make any progress, though, him hands came over mine and pulled them away. "Nora, stop." He gripped both my hands in once of his and used the other to tilt my chin up to face him. "Why are you doing this? It's not what you wanted half an hour ago."

"You said you might feel something," I mumbled. "I know it's what you want. And it's all I want for you to be happy, and if this is what it takes…"

"Wrong answer, Angel," he said taking my face in both his hands. "I never want you to do this just because you think it is what I want. I don't want you to ever have any regrets, and so we are going to wait. I don't matter. I'll wait another century if that's what you want…Though I hope it's not," he added with a smile.

"But it's my fault you aren't human," I lamented.

"Angel," he groaned, planting a rough kiss on my mouth before pulling back and staring deep into my eyes. "It's your fault I found the woman I've been searching my entire life for. It's your fault I get to spend eternity with you. It's your fault I've never been this happy, ever. It's your fault I love you so much an hour apart seems too long." Tears pricked up in my eyes, but Patch wiped them away with a soft movement of his thumb.

"I love you," I said, those three words feeling weak in comparison to Patch's speech. But he smiled, and stood, pulling me up with him.

"I'll take you home, Angel," he said, intertwining his hand with mine and leading me to the door.

Patch pulled into my driveway smoothly, turning off the car to walk me to the door. We stood on the porch for several long moments, holding each other tightly. "I don't want you to go," I said into his shoulder.

His hand stroked my hair. "Don't say that, or I might never leave."

"Okay," I agreed readily, and his chest shook as he chuckled.

"Have you ever heard the saying absence makes the heart grow fonder?"

"If my heart grows any fonder of you it might just explode," I muttered, right as the porch light flickered on.

"Nora, is that you?" I heard my mom's voice call from the other side of the door, which opened an instant later. I pulled away from Patch reluctantly. "Oh. Hello," she said coolly to Patch. Though we had explained everything, and she knew for a fact Patch had nothing to do with my kidnapping, she still hadn't warmed up to him yet.

"Hello, Mrs. Grey," Patch replied, the perfect model of politeness. "I was just dropping Nora off." My mom checked the watch on her wrist. It was 11:20—10 minutes before my curfew, giving her nothing to complain about.

"Thank you," she said stiffly. "Well…good night," she said, kicking him out not so subtly.

He nodded. "Good night, Mrs. Grey. Good night, Nora." I hated him leaving so formally, but as he walked away his voice whispered into my mind.

Sweet dreams, Angel.