Chapter 2: Second Meeting

I didn't see Gabrielle again for another two weeks. Though I often found myself searching all the communal areas of the University for a Mismatch of ridiculous colour. I even found myself standing in the corridor where I first met her, loitering around. I gave up after a week with no luck. The constant snark from my dorm mates didn't help any either. I regretted letting them get me drunk enough to tell them about my encounter with her.

Besides, they may have had a point, trying to find someone using bad fashion sense as a guide was hardly the most sensible thing to do. It had probably been laundry day when I met her. God knows I'd had to wear some bizarre combinations of clothes until I'd managed to wrestle my washing down to the machines sometimes.

The fact that I was still thinking about her after I'd all but given up on seeing her again, surprised me. She was about as far from Jess as I'd even seen a girl be; which made sense, in some kind of a twisted way. But still, the attraction surprised me, nothing about her put me off like other girls usually did.

I'd managed to restrain myself from calling my brother and telling him about this mystery girl when we'd talked on Sunday. The teasing he would have given me for trying to find her again like I had I could handle. It would be the celebration of my renewed interest in women that I wouldn't be able to cope with. He had been harping on at me to at least try dating again for over a year. I was surprised he'd lasted so long before trying to get me back on the horse, so to speak, but I guessed I probably had Cas to thank for that.

I hadn't told Dean or my Dad about my sleeping with guys, not that I thought they'd have a problem with it, but I knew they'd point it out for what it was, a way to avoid a repeat of Jess, and though I could admit it to myself, I didn't want to hear it out loud.

When my dorm mates suggested I join them at the students union for a Friday night of clubbing and drink, I agreed, just for something to do, and to keep them off my back about never having any fun. It was not, I told myself firmly while picking out my best shirt, to try and find the mystery girl again.

The hall was large and noisy and filled to bursting. The music pounded some heavy dance beat, loud and relentless. I'd somehow ended up on the far side of the room to the bar, and had been abandoned by my dorm mates pretty quick when they'd disappeared into the dancing mass that stood between me and another beer.
I'd been nursing my second beer for nearly half an hour, trying to make it last so I wouldn't have to brave the heaving, sweaty mass of grabby hands and pure un-coordination that made up a good portion of the dance floor at this point with how drunk everyone was getting, when I heard her, or at least, I thought I did.

"Samsquash!"

I nearly dropped my beer as I tried to catch her, stopping her from cracking her head against the wall I was leaning on. She looked up at me with a beaming grin, face flushed and her eyes a little glazed from all the dancing, and the drink. She was dressed in the most hideous pink glittered dress I'd ever seen, complete with pink glittery high heels and an obscene amount of body glitter glistening on her skin. She shouldn't have looked good, but somehow, against all odds, she did.

She wobbled on her heels when I let her go and leaned into my side to steady herself. Even in heels she was at least half a foot shorter than me.

I searched for something to say, before I remembered her greeting. "Samsquash?" I asked her, leaning down towards her so I didn't have to shout so loudly.

She grinned at me. "Took me ages to think that up." She said. "Suits you though." And she reached up to ruffle my admittedly shaggy hair, before looping the hand at the back of my neck to pull me closer. "I need some air. Wanna join me?"

I blinked, sure I was mishearing the suggestion in that invitation, but I was met by an easy, suggestive smirk and she turned away, bracing herself on the wall as she wobbled again on her heels before she found her balance and walked away. I watched her go, debating the wisdom of following her. Was this going to be a one night stand, or something more?

Did I want it to be something more?

My feet were already moving before I'd even considered it. I'd spent two weeks thinking about her, and at least some part of me wasn't about to let her disappear on me again. She was sitting on one of the picnic tables set up outside the building for those warm afternoon drinking sessions, wrapped up in a shrug, a pink glittered bag on the bench beside the table, her legs swinging.

She was practically sparkling in the faint lights of the street lamps and I found myself grinning as I made my way across to her. "Wearing enough glitter?" I asked, teasing.

She gave me a scowl, but it broke into a cheeky grin too quickly to be taken seriously. She ignored my questioned though, waiting until I came to stand between her legs, before reaching up and tugging me down. "You are too tall." She told me very seriously.

I ducked my head down closer to her and smiled. "I think maybe you're just too short."

There was a sudden flash of uncertainty that crossed her face, but it was gone too fast to be absolutely certain I wasn't imagining it. The fact that she dragged me into a kiss didn't help me focus on it much. It was hard and fast, an awkward clash of teeth and lips.

She pulled back, but I didn't give her the chance to go far, following and reclaiming her lips as quickly as I could. We kissed until my lungs burned and we were forced to pull away, both of us breathless and flushed. She was clutching at my shirt, breathing hard and looking at me like maybe it was the best kiss she'd ever had… and maybe I wasn't going to disagree to that assessment.

"I think." She panted a little, tugging me down for another kiss before continuing. "I think we ought to take this back to your room. Unless you have an exhibitionist kink you'd like to share."

I nodded. "Yeah."

It wasn't until she started laughing that I replayed what she said and felt my face heat up. "I meant- I don't have a… Oh God!" it was humiliating.

Her hand tightened on my shirt, not letting me detangle myself from her. "I know." She smiled. "It was a joke."

I nearly missed the second flash of uncertainty that flitted across her face. "Hey. We don't have to do this you know. If you don't want to." I offered. Maybe she thought she had to offer to have sex with me. Maybe that was how it was done? It wasn't like I really knew; I'd only been with Emma before, and all the guys I hooked up with were more than happy to tumble in the sheets with me. I was more than happy with just the kissing if that was all she wanted to do.

She bit her lip and glanced aside. "No. I want to." She said. I might have believed her if she didn't look so nervous. "It's just that…" she chewed at her lip and finally looked back at me, considering. "Oh fuck it!" she muttered to herself. "I'm a guy, biologically speaking."

There was a pause, a long moment of silence where I tried to get my head around that statement. My eyes darting all over her face, searching for the proof, or a way to deny it. I wasn't sure which one I would have preferred.

"Please tell me this isn't going to send you running screaming?" she-he?- asked, shifting back on the table, putting a little space between us.

It was probably the longest, most awkward moment of my entire life. My mind racing in a confusing jumble of thoughts that I couldn't make head nor tails of. But then I saw the uncertainty on her-his?- face shift to something that could so easily bloom into fear, and I couldn't stop myself leaning forward and down again and kissed her-him.

"So. Do I call you Gabrielle or Gabriel?" I asked when I pulled back.

I was met with a, pleased, near blinding smile. "Gabriel. You can call me Gabriel."