A/N: It's been quite a while since I've posted anything. I've been working on this for something like six months, so it seemed like I just had to publish it. This is a Jolie fic- in case anyone had any doubts of that. It's completely AU, inspired by a fic I read once on BoP (speaking of which, if anyone has the ability to, could they tell me how to get back to BoP?), a book I read a while back, and a fic I started working on forever ago, but never finished. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. I'm probably only going to do a little updating at a time, it's super long, so it would take me forever to upload it in one sitting. Review please!

He hated the bus. There was something about putting fifty people on a large vehicle at this hour of the morning that really made him want to punch people. When it wasn't this time of day and they weren't being so loud, he actually liked the people he was currently trying hard to ignore. He was counting down the days until he had his license. Of course, then he would need a car, but that was a separate battle. He wished he had brought his headphones today, it seemed like everyone was louder.

Maybe they were in anticipation.

He'd made some decent progress in ignoring the idiots around him when the bus pulled into its next stop and the noise that erupted caused him to look up.

There was a new kid on the bus. A girl. She had bright red hair piled into a sloppy bun at the top of her head and she was wearing men's clothes that were at least four sizes too big.

It was like she was trying to stand out.

Moreover, she needed a seat and she wasn't having much luck up front. He'd secured his loner seat long ago, and he was hopeful that she found one before she got to his seat. He didn't want to be branded as her friend, and he didn't want to interrupt his mornings of solitude, either.

But she was getting closer and the other loner seats didn't make any eye contact.

"Sit down!" the bus driver bellowed from up front.

The kids behind him were already beginning their torment of her, calling her names and wolf whistling. She was approaching his seat, with a begging look in her eyes. Silently, he moved his bag to his lap and she sat down.

She didn't say anything and she kept as much space between them as possible. He felt slightly at ease that she didn't want to talk anymore than he did.

He woke with a start. He panted, a cold sweat rushing over him. He sat up, suddenly unsure of what he was supposed to be doing.

Where was she?

"John?" he heard, and shut his eyes, everything coming back to him in a rush.

"I'm fine, sorry. Bad dream, go back to sleep"

She fell back asleep instantly, and he got up, heading to the kitchen. He needed a drink. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, gulping down almost half of it before coming up for air. Lately, the dreams of her had been coming more often and he kept waking up like this. He didn't know how much longer he could take it.

She was reading the book he brought on the bus with him. He wasn't sure when she'd started, but he knew she was reading them. They weren't that interesting, just anthologies of poetry, something he used to pass the time on the bus, but he wasn't sure anyone but him would find it interesting. He began to turn the pages slower and make sure she was getting everything out of each of them.

Then one day, seemingly out of nowhere she started talking to him. Well, he supposed it had something to do with him oversleeping and not grabbing his book.

"So what kind of guy bring poetry on a school bus, anyway?"

She sounded- spunky was the only word that came to mind.

He shrugged, "Me"

"Isn't that the type of thing guys get beat up for?"

"You think they're paying any attention to me?" he asked back, and to prove his point one of the idiots began howling, which started the chain throughout the bus.

"You may have a point there" she said, "I'm Natalie, by the way"

"John" he answered.

"I've heard. John McBain"

"Oh, you've heard? About what, precisely?"

"You play football"

"Yeah, I guess" he said, "So why haven't I heard about you?"

She shrugged, "Guess there's not much to say"

"Do you have a last name?"

"Balsom"

"Well, you liked the poetry, then?"

"Yeah" she almost smiled, "Some of its pretty good"

"Then I guess if they every figure me out, you're going to go down with me"

"I don't think they need another reason to pick on me, do you?"

He began to unpack the box. He'd just moved from a desk in the squad room to his own office. He'd gotten here early, trying to get unpacked before all the others came in so it seemed like he was capable of this job. He knew he was, but he also knew how it looked. Like he'd just gotten this promotion because of his dad, but that wasn't entirely true. He'd solved more cases for this precinct than any other uniform had. Add that to his years at the ACPD and the FBI, he was more than qualified.

But that didn't stop the whispers he heard that stirred up the doubt in him.

As he unpacked, he stopped at her case file. He hadn't picked it up in a while, and he again thumbed through it. It didn't make sense. It never had. He stopped to look at her picture. He must have looked at this picture a thousand times, but it never failed to make his heart break for what had happened.

They'd begun talking every morning and every afternoon. About anything and everything. It was getting to the point where they both got sad when she had to get off at her stop. Where the weekend seemed unbearably long because that was two days of not talking to her. He'd been trying to convince himself for two weeks to ask her, but he chickened out every time.

Finally, there came a Friday where he knew he wouldn't make it through the weekend. They'd run into each other at school that day and she'd done her cute half smile at him and said she'd see him later. He couldn't explain why that gave him so much excitement, but that had put him over the top.

When she sat down next to him on the bus that day, he didn't bother to build up to it, he just asked.

"Can I have your phone number?"

"You want my phone number?"

He nodded.

"You want my phone number?" she asked again, as if it was the most ludicrous thing someone had ever asked her.

"What's so strange about that?" he asked.

"No one's ever-" she looked down, unable to look at him to see the pity that would be in his eyes. His perfect, crystal blue eyes. Why did he have to be so perfect to her all the time?

"Oh" he said, "Well, I do"

"Why?" she asked.

"Because two days is too long to go without talking to you"

She looked back at him. He couldn't know she felt the same way. Like the weekend was the longest two days of every week because those were two days where no one looked at her or listened to her like John did. She'd sworn to herself she'd leave her home life out of this, that she'd just enjoy him while she could, before everything went to hell again. She searched for a way around the truth.

"Natalie-"

"I don't have a phone" she said, feeling smaller than ever.

"oh" he said.

She looked down, sure that he was pitying her now. She hated that. This was the one thing she'd been happy about, and now he knew. Knew that she was worthless.

He took her hand, interlocking fingers. He didn't know why he did it, but it seemed that was only thing he could do right now. He couldn't describe the feeling he got from holding her hand. It was like something in him clicked and this caused it, like he hadn't been whole before he'd done this. He couldn't imagine not doing it after this.

She looked down at her hand, now in his, and she was unsure what this meant. She knew she'd never look at her hand the same way again. She didn't know how such a simple gesture could make her feel so safe, especially when every other instance in her life told her not to feel safe. Yet, he had that power over her.

They looked at each other again, though they didn't say anything. She was comforted in the fact that she had this to remember for the weekend, even if she couldn't talk to him. God, she hoped he did it again on Monday. She saw that he wasn't looking at her any differently, either.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I guess this will have to tide me over til Monday"

Under that case file was the other one he'd held onto. The only other one that was still open. His dad's case. It had much less in it, but it was much newer. He knew he had to focus on his dad's case before hers, as much as it pained him to do so. His brother and his mom needed that closure, and he did too, but they'd all moved on from Natalie's case. He only wished he could do the same, but he knew he probably never would.

He continued to unpack the box, putting out the pictures he brought for the office, one of the family, one of he and his dad. He organized his office supplies and turned on his coffee maker. He could do this. He could make his dad proud. He could make Natalie proud.

They could still talk about anything. The only thing they didn't talk about was them. They held hands every morning and every afternoon, and sometimes she leaned into him a little more than usual, but they didn't talk about what they were.

So, when one morning she came on the bus looking angrier than normal, he immediately took her hand, he knew she liked it because that was one of the only times she didn't have anything to say.

"You okay?" he asked after a minute of silence.

She leaned into his shoulder, "I'm good now" she said.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"My stepfather- he and I just got into a fight" she tried to simplify it.

"That sucks" he said, "Are you close?"

She laughed, "No. He's an ass. I hate him"

"What about your mom?"

She shrugged, "I don't know, she's- she's my mom. That's really all there is to that"

"You going to be okay?" he said, "When you go home today?"

"He won't be there when I get home"

"Is there anything I can do?"

She looked down at their hands, then smiled at him.

"You're doing it"

"GO BIG RED"

They'd been chanting, but they only just now heard them because of the lull in their conversation. Natalie noticeably paled, and turned to face the front of the bus, away from him. She went to let go of his hand, but he wouldn't let her.

"Natalie-"

"John, you don't have to be dragged into this too"

"If it concerns you, it concerns me"

"Why let them bother you?"

"Because they're bothering you"

He didn't let go of her hand as the bus stopped and they immediately got off. The chanting didn't stop. He knew exactly who was behind it, Jeremy, the one who always had a comment about how she looked. Normally, it didn't bother him, it was just some offhand comment about what she was wearing, but this was meant to publicly humiliate her. When they were off the bus and the cheering continued, he slung off his backpack, left it on the ground in front of her and went to turn towards him.

"John, you don't-"

"They shouldn't be talking about you like that"

"Who are you angry for right now?"

"What?"

"Are you angry for me? Because I don't want you to do anything" she said, "But if you're angry for you-"

"How can that not bother you?"

"Because they don't matter" she said, "Now, c'mon, if you're doing this for me, I'd much rather you walk me to my locker" she said, and he seemed calmer. He nodded his head in agreement, "Okay" she said and bent down to get his backpack.

Jeremy wolf whistled, "Get it, Red"

"That's it" John said, and turned towards him.

Before either Jeremy or Natalie could process it, John had punched him across the face, and was continuing his assault on him.

"Don't talk about her like that"

"John, what the hell?"

"You are not going to say that about my girlfriend" he yelled.

Natalie was shocked by that confession, but it was at that moment that Jeremy regained his composure and began to fight back. She watched in horror as Jeremy gained the upper hand and began to punch John. Shortly, teachers were pulling them apart.

John sat in the office, waiting for his dad to get there. His face hurt, his hands hurt, and he was sure Natalie was pissed at him. He was sure his dad would be mad, too, and his mom, well, his mom had refused to pick him up. His dad said nothing to him until they were alone in his truck.

"Your mother is not happy with you" he said, "You're lucky she's on shift, she'll have some time to calm down before she comes home"

"I'm sorry, Dad"

"The principal said you were standing up for someone"

John didn't say anything. They only knew a little about Natalie, and he wasn't quite sure how they felt about it.

"So it was the girl"

"He whistled at her, Dad. She bent over and he whistled at her. Like she-"

"You did the right thing" he said, "the wrong way, don't forget that part,but you did the right thing"

"Dad-"

"this is a girl you care about. They were making fun of her, you defended her" he said, "I would have done the same thing. I'm not proud of it, but I would have"

They didn't say anything else on the ride to the house, and when they got home, John went right to his room, both because he was sure he would be sentenced there for a long time and because all he wanted to do was sleep. He hadn't broken anything, but he was sure his face was pretty beat up and it hurt a lot.

John wasn't on the bus that afternoon. She'd supposed that when teachers pulled him and Jeremy apart, he wouldn't be back in class that day, but she was still surprised when she was by herself on the bus. She still had his backpack, and she wanted him to have it. If for no other reason, that gave her a chance to see him. She didn't want to think about that too much, why she wanted to see him so much, or the feeling that had come over her when he'd called her his girlfriend. She got off at his stop, not really knowing where his house was. She asked Tracy, who happened to be Jeremy's girlfriend, but he wasn't on the bus either. She didn't look to happy to answer the question, but she told her anyway.

She knocked on the door, not quite sure what to expect. A man opened the door. His dad, she finally realized.

"Hi" she said, not quite sure how to introduce herself.

"You must be Natalie"

"Yeah" she said, "I have John's backpack"

"Well, come in, I'm sure he'll be glad to see you" he said, and headed into the house.

She followed, and in short order was in John's room. It was very boyish, not something she'd expected, but she found it cute just the same. His dad let her in, not saying anything, so she just went in.

"John?" she asked quietly. It looked like he was sleeping.

"Natalie?" he was groggy.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up"

"Don't be" he said.

"I brought your backpack"

"Thanks" he said.

She put it down, lingering in the doorway.

"Come here" he said. She came closer, but still stood a good distance away, "Natalie, sit down"

"Is that allowed?"

"Yeah, come here"

She sat down next to him, "How are you?"

"I've been better" he said, "It's not as bad as it looks"

"Well you look pretty bad"

"You should see the other guy"

"You did quite a number on him"

"He got three weeks suspension"

"Oh yeah, and what about you?"

"Two days"

"You got off easy"

"Yeah, well, I haven't been in seven fights this year"

"No one bothered me all day. Apparently having a fight over you is a pretty big deal"

"I thought you'd be mad at me"

"For what?"

"I called you my girlfriend"

She didn't say anything.

"I know you don't want to talk about- us"

She still didn't say anything.

"Natalie, I care about you. A lot. I'm sorry if I-"

She closed her eyes, finding the strength to have this conversation, "John" she said, getting him to stop, "I- I'm not mad" she said, "And-God this is embarrassing, you can't bring this up ever again" she paused, "When you-when you called me your girlfriend, I kind of, I don't know, it felt good"

"Really?"

She nodded, "So I guess, if that's what you want-"

"That is what I want"

"As long as my step dad doesn't find out, I think I want that too"

"So I guess this fight was worth the face"

"Consider this your one act of chivalry" she said, "This is not what I signed on for"

"Noted" he said.

"How's your face?"

"It's fine"

She leaned over and kissed the side of his face.

"Thanks for sticking up for me" she said, "but don't you ever do that again"

"Okay" he agreed, "Are you going to be okay to go home?"

"As okay I'll ever be"

"Because you can stay for awhile if you want"

"And you can keep your girlfriend in your bedroom?"

"As long as the door's open" he said, "that's the rule"

"There's a rule. That implies precedence"

"Now you're going to get all smart on me?"

"John" they heard from his doorway. It was his mom, "Oh, hi" she added when she saw Natalie.

"Hello" she said, "I guess I'll be leaving" she said, "Bye John" she squeezed his hand and left.

"The fight was over her?" his mother started the second Natalie was gone. The disgust in her voice was so thick John saw red.

"Yeah" he said, "He whistled at her"

"John McBain" she started on a tirade. But none of that mattered. He'd listen to her tirade him for his whole suspension. It didn't matter, because Natalie was his girlfriend, and nothing was going to take that away.