Vanya wasn't sure how it had started.

The peanut butter marshmallow sandwiches were to blame, sure.

That was the mystery that had gotten her out of bed. That's what had started the midnight meetings. The discussions of time travel. The after-hours exploration of Dad's library, Dad's office, Dad's shoe collection in the entryway coat closet…really anything of Dad's.

But how had this started? And by this Vanya meant the touching.

Was it that moment their hands had touched, when the first of the peanut butter marshmallow sandwiches had passed from No5 to No7. From tattooed arm to naked wrist. From extraordinary boy to unremarkable girl?

The second night he had offered her a sandwich but she had asked just for marshmallows. She ate the mini marshmallows one at a time. He sat on her side of the table with their elbows touching…occasionally their knees.

The third night he had the marshmallows waiting in one of the tiny bowls Mom used to serve custard. It was that third night that he brushed a lock of her long hair off of his notebook. He did it slowly, skating his palm across her shoulder. Did she imagine him going out of his way to touch her? To linger?

The fourth night she saw relief flash across his face. Just for a moment. As if he wasn't sure she would appear again. As if she was something wonderful…something that couldn't be predicted. He crossed the kitchen in a flash and when he took her hand she felt the jolt of his heartbeat through his fingertips.

"Ok, you're here, let's go." He said it all in one breath and pulled her out of the kitchen. And she laughed as she followed him to their next adventure. That night they had taken sips from Dad's bourbon decanter and pretended to be drunk. They swayed back to bed and she muffled her giggles into his neck.

The fifth night she showed him the rooms that were veritably soundproof. Both the east wing's unused parlor and two vacant sitting areas, each one too far from the sleeping areas to be heard. She had grabbed his hand first, and he didn't let go until they reached her bedroom door.

"Goodnight," he whispered and she felt his hands dissolve into hers as he teleported away.

The sixth night Five teleported into Luther's room and "borrowed" his record collection. They ate the sandwiches in the parlor and danced to the music. No one the wiser to their noise. They took turns spinning each other around the dusty furniture. Making themselves dizzy enough to collapse in a heap, their bodies entwined.

And now, the seventh night, they had laughed themselves to gasping, having taken turns doing impressions of first Bogo and then Dad.

Five got carried away. Twitching his lip in and jolting his finger up and down, delivering one of Reginald's classic lectures. So terrifying in reality but so ludicrously funny in pantomime.

"God, Dad is such a spaz! I can see where you get it from."

Vanya had both her hands covering a wide, unrestrained grin. Five pulled her hands away and stared into her eyes with mock betrayal.

"Not I!"

"Yes, you." She pulled him down onto the couch. "My turn," she insisted, doing a twirl in front of the fireplace, "That last one of Bogo was mean, time for a taste of your own medicine."

She strode across the room with unneeded quickness, oozing self-importance and jabbing her arms in exaggerated gestures. "What about this aren't you getting?! Ok then, I'll say it in plain English, this is not rocket science, I am right, you are wrong."

"Ouch, spare a guy's ego will ya?"

Vanya collapsed into laughter. "Did you not say nearly those exact words to Luther during this morning's training?"

Five propped himself up on an elbow. "You were watching?"

Vanya was supposed to be working on her biology assignment. Dad didn't allow her at practice. What was the point? She had no power. Therefore she had no place amongst the Umbrella Academy's finest. She could almost feel the empty skin of her forearm burn with shame. She had watched the practice secretly, risking the embarrassment and punishment of being caught.

Five looked like he wanted to say something, but she didn't want to hear about her otherness, her ordinariness.

"Do me," she demanded. Shoving him off the cushions.

Five smirked…God she loved that smirk. Moving to the opposite armchair he sat carefully and moved to the edge of the seat uneasily, wearing a worried expression as if afraid what it would mean for him to take up too much space. Vanya clenched her hands, uncomfortable in front of the mirror image of her smallness, her unremarkableness.

But then he tilted his head, listening intently, his fingers tapping gently on the edge of his thigh, as if deciphering sounds only he could hear. He turned to her, slowly, deliberately. His head tilted toward her, gazing at her intently. Like she was not only remarkable but astonishing…beautiful…extraordinary.

Vanya's heart rocked in her chest, creating a momentum she couldn't oppose. She reached forward with a quick daring she didn't know she possessed. When their lips touched the warmth and rightness took her breath away.

She pulled away just as quickly. Her thoughts catching up with her actions. Her stomach clenching with fear. The surprised look on Five's face made her squirm with embarrassment.

"That was unexpected." He was grinning. His arm snaking behind her before she could stand up and flee. His fingers curling around the back of her neck and pulling her toward him.

And at that moment Vanya knew what had started it all.

She had started it.

She was the spark. And he was incendiary.

And what would this new flame bring?

She didn't know. But what she did know is that she would do anything to keep this from ending.

Anything.