Disclaimer: Not owning a thing. God knows that if I did I wouldn't be sitting in this damn chair all day long cranking out these fics. –grins-

Sam Hall sighed and turned up the volume on his bedroom radio. He was bored out of his mind; more than that, he was lonelier than he'd ever been in his life. He had survived what was probably the most cataclysmic event in world history. By all rights, he should have been one of the happiest young men in…Mexico.

Unfortunately, his heart wasn't listening to what logic was telling him. Laura Chapman, his…well, he wasn't entirely sure if he could call her his "girlfriend" just yet. He knew that he'd loved her for what seemed like years. He knew from recent experiences that she liked him quite a bit as well—hell, she'd even kissed him. He gingerly touched his lips, remembering.

Of course, then she very nearly died on him. Most girls will just leave when they don't want to be with you; Laura Chapman practically falls into a coma. Sam knew that she hadn't done that for that particular purpose, that she really did like him, but sometimes he had to wonder. The mind of the woman was not something to be trifled with, after all. Maybe he was such a bad kisser that she'd subconsciously opted for a near-death experience to avoid a repetition…

Sighing, Sam flipped over onto his stomach on the flattened mattress and twisted the dial on his radio blindly. Laura wasn't there with him; he knew that that was what had created that large, aching hole inside of him. She was at least three miles away, with her parents, and that knowledge made him sick. He loved her and it really just wasn't humane to be taken away from someone you loved.

He hit a country station and his fingers twitched on the dial. Here was some mood music—literal mood music. He didn't recognize the artist, but the words cut straight to his heart.

I miss the look of surrender in your eyes
The way your soft brown hair would fall
I miss the power of your kiss when we made love

Okay, so that last line was less than accurate, he thought miserably, stuffing his face into a pillow. But the rest was perfect; Laura had the most wonderful curly brown hair and her eyes were more than capable of that wildly innocent expression that the song was describing.

But baby most of all
I miss my friend
The one my heart and soul confided in
The one I felt the safest with
The one who knew just what to say to make me laugh again
And let the light back in
I miss my friend

"Arg!" Sam groaned, slamming his head into the fluffy pillow a bit more violently. This was unfair, the way the lyrics seemed to reflect his exact thoughts. Laura was one of his best friends, hard as it was to believe. He'd barely been able to speak to her without tripping over himself and then suddenly…suddenly it was as if she knew him better than anyone else in the world could. He felt utterly safe with her; she'd even saved his life. And she had been the only one to make him smile when they'd been trapped in that library, when everyone around them was dying…

I miss the colors that you brought into my life
Your golden smile, those blue-green eyes
I miss your gentle voice in lonely times like now
Saying it'll be alright

Again, small differences. She had large chocolate eyes, fantastically puppy-like eyes that could make him do anything. But that voice! She'd used that voice to keep him from panicking so many times….

I miss my friend
The one my heart and soul confided in
The one I felt the safest with
The one who knew just what to say to make me laugh again
And let the light back in
I miss my friend

I miss those times
I miss those nights
I even miss the silly fights
The making up
The morning talks
And those late afternoon walks

Sam wished he could get the chance to have morning talks and afternoon walks and all those other things…even the fights would be worth it, he thought glumly, if they would give him the chance to see her again, right now…

I miss my friend
The one my heart and soul confided in
The one I felt the safest with

As he listened to the rest of the song, Sam silently berated himself for his childish moping. It wasn't like she was so very far away. And it wasn't going to be forever; that just happened to be the place her folks had settled on for now. Eventually they would go home and they would be able to spend all the time in the world together…

"Yeah, if she doesn't meet Don Juan before 'eventually' comes," he finished out loud, getting up from the bed and staring out the tiny window set in the far wall of his room morosely. "With the luck I have, she'll probably be engaged by the time we go home…"

"You know, talking to oneself is usually considered the mark of a genius," a cheery voice told him from the doorway. "It's the answering part that makes you a madman."

He whirled; Laura was leaning against the doorframe, her hair falling across her face in gentle waves. She was wearing jeans, a tee shirt that he faintly recognized as one of his own (How did she get that), and a shy smile that said everything. He read the expression eagerly: She loved him, she wanted him, and she hadn't yet met a Don Juan. He said a silent prayer of thanks and swiftly crossed the room to her. She met him halfway, throwing her arms around his neck and burrowing her face against his neck.

"I've only met one Don Juan thus far," she told him, eyes twinkling mischievously. "And as he's a seventy-two year old, toothless man, I don't think I'll be accepting any walks on the beach anytime soon."

He chuckled against her hair. "That's very comforting."

"And I don't plan on getting engaged until after college," she informed him a bit more briskly. "They've set up a campus nearby especially for the American students whose homes have been destroyed and while it's no Harvard—"

She made a tiny muffled sound in place of whatever word had been planning on escaping her lips as he captured them hungrily with his own. She rose up against him, her hands twisting around locks of his hair.

"Mm," she murmured, pulling back. "Well, I've missed that…"

"What are you doing here?" he asked breathlessly, leaning back just far enough to look her in the eye. "I thought I wouldn't see you for months, at least."

"As your deranged ramblings would have suggested," she answered quirkily, looking much more impish than he ever would have given her credit for only a week ago. "But I told Mom and Dad firmly that I wouldn't leave you. One near-death experience is enough for me, thanks."

His cheeks flushed pleasurably. "And believe me, no one appreciates that gesture more than I do."

She laughed softly and rested her head against his shoulder. "So we're going to be next-door neighbors. Do I sense exciting sneak-out-make-out sessions on the horizon?"

Sam blinked in surprise. "You never cease to amaze me, did you know that?"

Her lips curved upward further. "Just wait, Mr. Hall. Just wait."

She kissed him again and he smiled against her. The radio was still playing in the background and, once again, he didn't recognize the tune. But the beat was lively and fit his mood perfectly; he broke the kiss and picked Laura up, whirling her spontaneously around.

She looked at him with wide eyes. "What are you doing?"

He shrugged, setting her down. "You know, I'm not entirely sure. But I'm having a better time than I ever expected to again."

Laura poked a finger into his chest. "I've got an even better game for you, my dear. One that's positively buckets of fun."

He perked up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Turning toward the door, she reached a hand back and hooked her finger in his collar, tugging him along with her. "I call it: Unpacking Laura's things while she takes a nap."

He made a face. "What kind of a game is that? All it is is work. For me, no less. How come you get to sleep."

She smiled slyly. "Trust me, benefits will come later."

A grin spread across his face. "Ookay!"

Fin­

A/N: Okay, random fluff piece. I really enjoyed writing it. The song just seemed to fit and I'm in a sappy kinda mood. It's a one-shot, but I plan on writing another random DaT fic soon, no worries. 'Till then, see ya!