A confession

"You've grown."

"Nonsense; you're just saying that to pacify me. You used to be only two inches above me when we were fifteen. You were rather a slow one."

"No! I'm serious," Laurie insisted, trying to look serious. "Look, you're only somewhere up to…"

"Up to your shoulder." Jo threw him a disdainful look.

"That's not so bad."

"No need to rub it in. It rankles me when you start spouting drivel. You're a good head taller than me, though sometimes I wonder if you have got your head on."

They tramped comfortably throught the forest, Jo trying to admire the greenery and the tranquility of the place around them, instead of thinking how nice Laurie's hair was and how unfair her hair wouldn't curl nicely instead of frizz up, but it was hard work.

She gave up and unashamedly stared at the back of Laurie's undoubtedly fine, broad shoulders as they walked. Laurie walked slightly in front, kicking leaves about in what was his usual carefree, make-a-mess style.

His face was deep in thought, however, and his countenance pensive. Jo would have been worried had she seen him just them.

"I'm hungry," Laurie announced suddenly, turning in his path. Jo almost strode right in to him.

Jo plopped herself on the ground, heedless of the crumbly earth and fallen leaves and made herself comfortable. "You're lucky this time. Hannah gave me gingerbread and literally threw me out of the house. I don't know what all that 'hush-hush' is about."

Laurie sat next to her, and stretched his long legs beside hers. He accepted a broken piece of ginger bread she handed to him and tossed it in to his mouth, finishing it off in a matter of seconds.

"Watch how you down it. I only have three pieces and we'll have to ration."

She handed him a torn hanky filled with three very broken biscuits which still managed to look appetizing despite its forlorn state.

She closed her eyes and leaned back on the rough, peeling bark and sighed happily.

"Laurie, I'm so glad you came back. We haven't gone for a walk like this in ages."

Her eyes were shut dreamily against the soft sun rays that filtered through the canopy of leaves above them and she leaned her head against his shoulder, which felt hard and solid yet comfortable.

Laurie only made an 'mmhmm' in agreement. He was too busy staring at her face, absorbing in the angular lines and planes that were thoroughly unfeminine and utterly Jo.

Why couldn't she see he loved her? She almost seemed determined to ignore his well-placed hints and small nudges, which was making life miserable for him. Was it typical of all good women to do that?

He leaned over her, almost unconsciously, wanting so badly to put his lips to her mouth and just show her what he felt, how deep it was and how true it was. He wanted to not have to hide anything, or act like her careless references to their friendship – to her it was nothing more – stung him like a lash.

The sun was on Jo's side, for it played on her face in soft hues, and gave grace and peace to the strong jaw and decided brow that she always hated. Her skin was unblemished, and her chestnut hair, long grown back, cascaded over one shoulder from where it escaped from her haphazard bun at the back of her head.

The sharp, shrill noise of a jay rang through the forest, above the soothing sounds of rustling branches, and Jo jerked up. Her forehead collided with Laurie's nose, which had been perilously near to her face.

"Teddy!"

"MpPHHph! PffFfFt!" Laurie reeled back, half laughing, clutching at his nose, trying to look like he hadn't been about to brush a kiss against her crown.

"Oh, goodness, Teddy, I'm so, so sorry! Have you broken it?" She scrambled up from her place under the tree to where Laurie was rolling around, his hand to his face.

"I broke it? More like you broke it!" Teddy gasped, trying to decide whether to laugh or blink back the tears that instinctively rushed to his eyes at the pain.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry. I'll bandage your nose. I'll fix it. I'm sorry. Only don't tell Marmee; we'll never hear the end of it. Oh dear, your poor nose," said Jo, apologizing profusely, her voice cracking miserably on the last three words as she rocked backwards on her heels, grasping Laurie's flailing hand.

Laurie lost it about there and gave in to hysterical laughter.

Jo stared, astonished. "I've almost snapped your nose in half with my forehead, and you can still laugh?"

Laurie managed to sit up, shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth as he tried to gain control of himself lest he alarm Jo any further.

Jo gave up.

"I'll never understand you," she said at last.

Laurie affected wiping away a tear of laughter.

"Sure you do. More so than anyone else. And if I have it my way, a lot better in time."

"Now just what is that to mean?" She gave a last tweak at his nose to make sure it was fine, and at Laurie's hand swipe, settled back against the tree again.

Now's the time, old chap. Go for it.

"Ahh…Jo. I must tell you something."

"Mhmmm."

"No, really, Jo. And you must pay attention."

"Mhmmm."

"Ahh…you see. When you call me 'Teddy', well…it's obviously…a…well… what does…does it mean? Mean, exactly…ah…mmphmm…Jo? Jo, are you listening to me at all?"

Jo's head lolled comfortably on his shoulder.

Laurie heaved a huge sigh, looking utterly miserable and yet entirely relieved at being spared the trauma of having to say anymore.

I'll never pull through with this.

He leaned backwards, trying to subconsciously shift his body to realign it closer to Jo's lanky frame, without waking her. His one free hand slowly drifted up to Jo's face, dropped down, then lifted again. He softly stroked one wayward curl and muttered something hardly intelligible, before putting his hand back to his side.

She wouldn't ever understand.

Jo tried desperately to school her expression in to that of peaceful sleep.

I can't deal with this know. I wouldn't ever know what to say!

Surely he doesn't mean what it…what it sounds like? It's almost as if he's trying to say… No.

Oh gosh. I wish I'd listened when Meg tried to teach me how to sleep properly in that last play. It would so help now.

Jo's heart skipped a beat when through her half closed lids she saw Laurie's hand lift up in front of her, hesitating.

Laurie had such nice long fingers. Pianist fingers.

Maybe he just wants to brush some insect away from my hair. Or a leaf. Or…

She shut her eyes completely hurriedly, just as Laurie's hand lightly brushed her temple in a fond gesture. His hand was gone almost as quickly as it was gone.

It was definitely an insect.

Laurie's voice came, tender yet somehow agitated.

"Why can't you love me?"

Jo's throat dried up.

But I do. Oh, I DO.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Hello people. I was breezing through my 'writing junk' folder the other day and realized to my horror i'd totally forgotten about this fic and it's been sitting collecting dust. I'm very bad.

Anyway, i hope to start (yes, hope) continuing this...and yes, same as always, please review.

) have a nice day.