A Meeting of Sorts

Um….hey guys (ducks sheepishly and avoids flying fruit)

Please forgive me for not updating for a super long time…But please bear with me. I send my heartfelt apologies to each and every one of you who reviewed, and yes, also to those of you who were kind enough to PM me and tell me to get my a… back on track. Thank you. And I won't hold you. On with the fic! (oh, and let me warn you: there's a POV change, so watch out for it!)

-.-

Footsteps tapped on the floor. Joey lifted his hands away from his hair, expecting to find a librarian about to yell at him again—he hadn't taken a library pass, after all. Before he could turn around and blab out another excuse, he felt a hand on his shoulder. A manly hand.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

Joey stiffened in his seat, his breaths coming in short, strangled gasps. His fingers gripped the edge of the table until they whitened with the force. He could feel the heat seep through his thinning uniform into his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut and trembled.

-.-.-

"Pup?" The soft, familiar voice echoed through the quiet of the library, and penetrated through Joey's dazed brain.

Joey exhaled a loud, gusty sigh and turned around to glare at the teen standing behind him. He resisted the urge to clamp a hand over his still-too-rapidly beating heart.

"It's just you," he grumbled, trying to cover his nervousness. His gaze skittered nervously over the immaculately dressed teen. "What are ya doing in the library? Don't ya have any other place to be?"

Joey registered in one small part of his brain that he was being completely irrational—in fact, his behavior was bordering on insane; standing behind him was Seto Kaiba. That alone should have caused the rational part of his brain to shoot super-fast messages across his nervous synapses to his mouth, telling it to close the gap between his lips and keep it that way.

But of course, the adrenal glands that had short-circuited his brain and gone straight to his bodily functions had yet to cease releasing that neurotransmitter. Hence, he did not realize that he had just snarked on someone who had called a doctor for him, and acted like a caring human being for once, while here he was acting like a petulant child.

The faintest touch of guilt crossed his consciousness, but he pushed it away hastily. After all, didn't Seto very nearly give him a coronary just moments ago? Stupid Seto Kaiba, he thought angrily—although that rational part of his brain was berating him for treating the other teen so harshly. He didn't really remember exactly what had happened yesterday after…after…

Anyways, somehow, he found himself at Kaiba's house. He really, really hoped the other teen had no idea about…IT—and it worried him that he could barely remember what happened yesterday. Just that Kaiba had gone off on his dog-names and that he had let him stay for a bit before letting him off at home.



Of course he had wondered how he'd gotten to Kaiba's house in the first place, because everything was just one big nasty blur, but he'd asked Mokuba and Mokuba had told him that Kaiba had told him that he had collapsed at school and had just brought him home. Which didn't make sense at all, but Joey wasn't going to think too much on it.

He had been too exhausted to think of the ramifications of ending up at Kaiba's house after IT,that he hadn't thought about it at all. Up until this point, at which reality felt that it needed shake him up a bit and remind him that he was deeply, and utterly screwed. Surely Kaiba had no clue as to what happened, right? And why would he care?

Wouldn't Kaiba love to use his behavior from yesterday to create more insults and throw them heartlessly back at him? After all, everyone knew Seto Kaiba's favorite pastime was taunting Joey Wheeler.

Joey's stomach executed a fine little somersault, followed by some flip-flops like an Olympic gymnast. The split second shock that pervaded his body was replaced by a feeling that had Joey wondering whether it would have been better to crawl in a hole and just lay there for eternity.

The teen paled and his fingers twitched on top of the table. No, he just couldn't…He wouldn't tell anyone would he?

"I'm surprised you know where you are. I thought you were lost again," Kaiba quipped, breaking Joey out of his reverie. He strode around the table and crossed his arms and stood there coolly, his presence once again overshadowing everything in his midst.

Joey scowled and lowered his hands to the table, drumming them listlessly while trying to avoid Kaiba's penetrating gaze. Relief had flooded his system once he'd realized it was just Seto, but it was now replaced with well-placed worry that gnawed at his brains and caused his heart to trip unpleasantly. His irritation grew when he realized that his emotions were too scattered, his nerves too frayed, to even tell the other teen to go away. Maybe he should just keep silent, and the other boy would get the message?

He did not want to deal with the pretentious blue-eyed, well-dressed-without-a-spot-of-lint CEO today. Just not today, he silently begged whatever deity was out there. He just wanted to sit quietly, by himself, and did not want to answer any questions that he just knew would tumble out of the other's lips. He really, really wished he had found a hole to hide in.

"What? No half-wit retort to colour my day?" Kaiba smirked, before pulling out a chair swiftly and settling down on it. He crossed his long legs under the table, and leaned forwards, steepling his fingertips. Joey heartbeat, which had been going at highway speed, now sped back up. He bit back his rejoinder, which included telling the other teen in which orifice he could shove his retort, and instead focused on the markings on the table.

Why the hell did he sit down? He thought panickedly. He stilled his fingers, and tucked them under the table. He resisted the urge to run from the table screaming. Right. Like that would blow over well.

He knew his body posture, half rigid with tension, conveyed his nervousness—and he knew that the bastard part of the CEO was just waiting to tear him into tiny bits and pieces.

Joey risked another glance at Kaiba, and their gazes locked. Shit. He swore he could feel the air, which was rife with tension already, sizzle with the curiosity and—dare he say —concern emanating furiously from cerulean eyes. He could see every curved eyelash touch the skin of his brow, every fleck of cobalt hidden in the warm ring of sea-blue. He could see Kaiba's eyes darkening; he could barely discern the pupil from the blue. Kaiba's gaze narrowed, and his eyes sharpened with intelligence, as though he were scouring the depths of his soul and had discovered something.

Suddenly, Kaiba's eyes widened fractionally and snapped back to near glacial ice-caps, while Joey blinked and hastily looked away, fighting back a blush. And yet he realized something—or at least he found proof that his brain hadn't been completely fried yesterday; the Kaiba everyone else saw, the Kaiba he thought he knew, seemed to be a mere façade.

Kaiba was cold and frigid and rude and could care less about holding the door open for an old lady; Seto was still rude and condescending, but he was also warm (something he had been sure he had imagined) and nice and sweet. He would have consigned himself to a mental facility if someone told him he'd use these particular adjectives to describe his once-rival. But he felt some sort of odd kinship with him; Seto was hiding his real self from the world, just as he was. And both had let their façades slip.

Joey tilted his head in confusion when the oceanic eyes across him blinked and averted their now-stony gaze back to his laptop.

He admonished himself. What was he doing gaping at Seto? And what would the other teen think?

Joey cleared his throat in the awkward silence that ensued, and flipped open his algebra book, pretending to peruse the section on multiplying basic trinomials—although the only things that were swirling around in Joey's head were Oh, shit and He must think I'm a nut and Why won't he leave already?

Kaiba shifted slightly in the silence, and Joey looked up hopefully. But Kaiba swiftly pulled out his laptop and looked quite at home at the cramped table.

His fingers raced over the surface and his brow furrowed in concentration—and did Kaiba know he bit the corner of his lip right before relaxing his forehead? Joey's lips curled upwards and he thumbed the well-worn page. Kaiba looked very much at home, and every inch the CEO, so neat and clean and cold again, and acting like Joey hadn't had a breakdown in front of him just yesterday…Shut up, he told his brain, which stuttered to a halt and thoroughly agreed with the decision to forget about yesterday.

Where was he? Right. Kaiba was always such a freakish workaholic, and he always maintained a cool air of disdain, turning his nose up and sneering at what he probably thought were lower life-forms. And it seemed that the other Seto, who was truly out-of-this-world Twilight-Zone-ish, had disappeared back under that frigid persona. And it also seemed that the snarky, mocking, and utterly exasperating disposition had surfaced.

Joey scowled.

Kaiba leaned forwards, now thoroughly engrossed in his work, and not even sparing so much as a glance Joey's way. Joey scowled even harder. So what was…whatever that was just now? Dammit, Kaiba just pissed the crap out of him anyways. Why was he thinking so hard about him?

Joey sent an annoyed look his way, hoping that Kaiba would hear the brainwaves he was broadcasting (go away, go away, go away). His gaze lingered for a few seconds longer before he noticed the bunch of hair that draped itself on Kaiba's forehead, hooding his eyes.

His eyes. Joey had felt entranced in those few seconds, which in a clichéd way had felt an eternity long, when he was staring at Kaiba. The look they shared didn't feel strange or uncomfortable or condescending at all. No, it felt quite the opposite. It felt good. It was a reminder of who Kaiba could be—and who he was. Joey sighed mentally. And now he was spouting nonsense like Tea.

Oddly enough, an itching feeling in his hands wouldn't stop. He wanted to see Kaiba's eyes; they were the only proof that the other Kaiba existed. He wanted the other to look at him, to pay attention to him like he had yesterday. He didn't want him to act like…well, normal again, he admitted. Yesterday was actually nice. Seto Kaiba was actually sweet. And darn it, if that smooth, tawny lock of hair didn't move he'd have to do it himself!

Horrified at where his thoughts had led him, Joey sputtered and blushed furiously, and flipped through chapters at a time in the book.

"Is there a problem?" Kaiba quirked an eyebrow at Joey, without stopping the incessant tapping on the keyboard. Joey gulped, averting his gaze from the amused smirk and sparkling blue eyes back to the book.

"Er, no…" Joey could feel the blood rushing to his face; he moaned inwardly—his face picked the worst times to turn cherry red. He fought the climbing urge to clap his palms on his burning cheeks to avoid further embarrassment. Really, now, what was he doing? What had he been thinking? Joey silently berated himself, oblivious that the CEO was still staring at him pensively.

-.-

Seto's features softened as he finally studied the boy in front of him. That idiotic librarian had wasted his time making him wait at the front desk until she shelved the rest of her books before scrutinizing his hall pass and letting him into the library. The old bat.

He hadn't been able to check on Joey earlier; it wouldn't do to ask his friends, as he would only reap a plethora of odd looks and threats. However, luckily he had caught the familiar flash of messy blond before period three—advanced psychology—which had surprisingly led him straight to the library. He had hastily forged his psych teacher's signature and penned in the date and time on an extra hall pass.

Forget classes. He needed to find out what happened yesterday, and he knew with absolute certainty that by prodding and provoking Joey, he'd be able to fully decipher yesterday's reactions. And how odd was it that Joey felt protected when he was with him? Warmth spread from his heart when he found out that Joey did not detest him—in fact, he actually felt safe with him.

But with that knowledge came confusion and a mess of odd facts.

Had recent or past abuse provoked the powerful and shocking response to his doctor? And why hadn't other students or teachers provoked such a response? After all, Tristan would slap Joey on the back, while Yugi would tug on his arm, and he seemed perfectly comfortable with touch. Until yesterday. When he barged out of a classroom in tears. Strange.

Was it something to do with his infernal friends? Would that turn Joey into a mess? No, that was impossible—he'd just seen Yugi talking to Joey earlier, and Yugi had actually seemed a bit worried about Joey. And anyways, he knew Joey was stronger than that. He wouldn't let something as inconsequential as an argument pierce his happy-go-lucky self. No, his Joey would nip the problem in the bud and make up with his friends right away, cheerfully laughing and smiling brightly. So friend-problems were out of the question.

Was it schoolwork? But he quickly dismissed that idea; the day Joey would care about his grades would be the day kids started dumping DuelDisks in the trash. And there was no way that something that trivial would provoke such a violent response. Was the problem family based? Maybe it was…Had something happened to his father? No, Seto narrowed his eyes. He would have heard about it; he kept tabs on things like these—just in case he learned something important.

But why else would Joey come barreling into him in a crowded hallway, and start bawling and shaking?

He swore at himself; he should have paid better attention during the examination. He needed details, and he didn't have those details. He needed information, and the only way to obtain it would be directly from the source: Joey.

His blood burned as he thought of someone laying hands on someone as pure as Joey.

Of course the teen was bombastic and loud and all-too-cheery and genuinely compassionate—but that's what the essence of Joey was. Although the teen could be irritating as hell at times, which was also endearing in a sense, this merely showed that Joey was passionate about what he believed in. His Joey was not a pushover.

And he had staked a claim upon the boy as soon as he had seen him. His bright smile and equally as stunning eyes had instantly reminded him of Mokuba—and had angered him because he had lost Mokuba to Pegasus—but had later melted his heart once he figured the other boy out.

He was so full of life. He wasn't led astray by crime, despite his past, or lust or greed. He had later tried to equate Joey's innocence with that of Yugi—but it didn't fit. Yugi was exceedingly innocent, with huge purple eyes and a childish smile, while Joey had a hidden aura of maturity although he exuded care-freeness.

And it didn't make any sense at all that Joey would let someone hurt him. When he discovered who was abusing Joey, there would be nothing left but bloody remains scattered around town. And if the abuse was in the past, he would use all of his resources to hunt down whoever had hurt Joey.

Calming himself, he watched Joey slump into a chair situated between the shelves, across a tiny table. His curiosity peaked. Why would Joey set foot in a library of all the places he could be? Why not outside or at the cafeteria with his entourage of friends? The Joey he knew usually found solace in his circle of friends, and would never leave them…Right?

Seto sighed frustratedly. Another piece of the puzzle that was Joey. Why was he alone? He obviously wasn't doing any homework. He was just staring off into the distance, thinking.

Seto sat at a nearby table, angling the cheap wooden chair to face Joey. He watched an array of emotions swim across Joey's features, before settling on frustration. Seto fidgeted, itching to comfort Joey as he had yesterday.

When he found Joey in his bedroom, hair mussed and clothes rumpled with sleep, a strangely pleasant jolt of something passed through his body; although Joey looked stressed and his features pained, he looked much less so than after his breakdown. Seto shivered. He'd never forget the tortured expression on Joey's face as he cried out. That was one image that was seared onto his eyelids.

Joey ran his hands through his hair, and then picked at the wooden table. What was going through the other boy's mind? Curiosity won out. Seto had seen enough. Obviously, yesterday's events were still wreaking havoc in Joey's mind—and his friends weren't here with him. Perhaps this was the right moment in which he could figure out what was bothering Joey. And gain insight as to who was hurting him.

He gripped the handle of his suitcase tightly and stopped behind the other teen. Seto couldn't help but notice the way the light shone in his honey-blond hair, making it seem like the strands were made of the smooth silk. Tightening his grip on his suitcase and banishing all thoughts of Joey's hair, Seto lay a hand on Joey's shoulder—and instantly berated himself; Joey flinched, his shoulder twitching under his grasp.

Seto could feel the other teen's entire body tense in anticipation. Joey seemed afraid to turn around, and sat ram-rod straight. Was this the after-effect of more abuse, then? Seto couldn't help but wonder. But he curbed his rising anger, reminding himself of his mission, and breathed in deeply.

"Pup?" he asked, as softly as he could. It would not do to frighten Joey, especially after Joey's violent reaction to his doctor. He murmured the word gently, trying to reassure him that he was no threat. After he had uttered that word, he felt Joey relax under his hand instantly—his shoulders sagged, and he blew a breathy sigh of relief.

Seto removed his hand from Joey's shoulder, at once missing the slight warmth beneath his palm. He curled his hand into a fist, digging his fingernails into his skin. Now was not the time to think of such things, he growled inwardly.

"It's just you. What are ya doing in the library? Don't ya have any other place to be?" Joey drawled, albeit a bit breathlessly.

Seto's retort stuck in his throat as Joey turned around. Effortlessly masking his emotions—especially his concern—Seto scrutinized his pup's face. The light illuminated Joey's features; the skin under his eyes looked bruised, his face all-too pale, his lips pinched in worry. He was neither worse nor better than when he'd dropped him home.

He peered down at Joey, trying to catch his eye, but Joey flatly refused to look at him. Seto's brow furrowed. Had he done something wrong already? Sure he'd accidentally scared Joey—he really should have known better—but didn't yesterday's events show Joey anything? That he cared, or at least that he didn't hate him? He'd tried to do everything he could yesterday to make the other teen as comfortable as possible. But perhaps years of a seemingly hate-hate relationship couldn't overcome that.

So then why wouldn't he look him in the eye? Had someone hurt him again? Surely this was a sign that Joey was hiding a crucial clue—but what was it?

Joey looked extremely nervous; his leg shook, rattling the coins in his pocket, while his fingers drummed on the table-top. Maybe Seto shouldn't have approached him just yet. Maybe he wasn't ready to say anything. But Seto Joey would close up again. Seto steeled his resolve, even though it was obvious that Joey was wishing dearly that the ground opened and conveniently swallowed him up, briefcase and all. He needed answers if he was going to help Joey.

Seto sighed; he knew Joey would not willingly discuss anything with him. In fact, it seemed as though he would have to fight tooth and claw to get anything out of him. He knew that although the boy could be a bit dim at times, he was as stubborn as a mule. He would question him tactfully, of course, but perhaps a direct approach and provocation would work best. After all, Joey did bite back rather viciously (and enthusiastically) after Seto's barbs.

"I'm surprised you know where you are. I thought you were lost again," Seto said, attempting to provoke Joey. Insults never failed, he thought to himself, and smirked. Any moment now, Joey would snap at him defensively.

Oddly enough, he only saw a flicker of something strange pass over Joey's hooded eyes, and disappear as quickly as it had come. Joey merely looked like a kicked puppy, indignantly trying to preserve his pride. That last statement had clearly shaken Joey from his train of thought, for he shook his bangs out of his eyes. But he continued to stare vacantly around the room—everywhere except in front of him, where Seto stood.

He waited in the uncomfortable silence that ensued. Neither said anything, and Joey didn't even glance his way. Seto narrowed his eyes. His attempts at normality were failing—and Joey had never purposefully ignored him. It hurt a bit. Especially after what he had done for him yesterday. But again, perhaps that was the very reason Joey did not want a confrontation. Nevertheless, he'd persist in interacting with the other teen.

He scrutinized the boy in front of him, carefully, yet inconspicuously. He didn't like what he saw—a pale replica of Joey's normally vivacious self.

"What? No half-wit retort to colour my day?" He tried another insult. Perhaps this wasn't the right way to go…

Seto's fingers twitched in irritation as his obvious attempt to arouse some sort of response in the boy in front of him failed. He'd just have to surprise him. He smirked, and pulled out a chair, swiftly sitting down. He was rewarded with a wary and shocked glance sent his way.

Refusing to look at the other teen, Seto pulled his laptop out and smugly set it on the dirty table. He flipped it open, and clicked on the links to his spreadsheets. Let the pup think what he wants. Seto ground his teeth, and set to work, occasionally letting his eyes flick over Joey's still stunned figure. He would open up, he would. And with that, Seto set to work, trying to ignore the curious glances Joey was sending his way.

Accounts. Tables. Numbers. His mind quickly filtered out what was to be done, and his fingers typed on autopilot while he thought about the figure sitting across from him. It was obvious that something was bothering the pup—how many times had he told himself that?—but it was equally as obvious that his presence had unsettled and confused Joey.

Why else would he keep looking at him? He would have snickered aloud if he could have; the other teen really needed to learn subtlety. He could feel the other boy's gaze on him, trying to figure out what he was doing, why he was here. Seto smirked. Let those thoughts stew around for a bit. Maybe then he'll finally muster up the courage to finally say something.

As Seto finally dragged his eyes upwards, his eyes locked with Joey's.

And he couldn't let go; he was inextricably pulled in like a magnet, and once stuck, he couldn't let go.

Last year, during one of his lunch breaks, he remembered sitting under the Sakura tree on dewy grass just last year. He leaned against the short tree, the bark nudging his back. A soft breeze rustled the leaves above him and cooled his skin. The sun hid behind an expanse of clouds, leaving the air pleasant and mild. Seto closed his eyes, and relished in the small break. The blades of grass felt smooth and wet beneath his fingers, but he cared not. He breathed in the heady scent of rain and mint and green and allowed a small smile.

His eyes shot open as something small and hard hit the side of the tree. A black and white soccer ball rolled a few feet away. A loud, breathless voice followed:

"You alright?"

Seto angrily turned to the side, about to tell off the nitwit who dared to throw a ball in his vicinity. But as he turned, he looked at the boy who crouched across from him, scooping up the ball. A familiar boy who caused his heart to thump wildly in his chest—even though he never let his excitement show. He assumed the other teen hadn't looked at him yet, and had rushed over from his game to grab the elusive ball—why else would Joey ask about his welfare. Still, it was nice. During the Duel tournaments, he had become fond of the other boy, and as Mokie put it, developed a "crush."

Seto wanted to cast a cursory glance over the other boy, but found his eyes reluctant to look away.

Joey's cheeks sported a healthy dusting of pink, while he tugged apologetically at his full, bottom lip with his teeth. His hair caressed his forehead, a halo of dazzling blond that was pulled this way and that by the wind.

As Joey lifted his head, both boys' eyes locked. Seto licked his lips unconsciously.

"Fine," he murmured, another breeze, stronger this time, whipped their hair about.

Bright hazel brown eyes widened in surprise and recognition as the sun peeked out from its blanket of clouds. His eyes shone brightly in the sunlight—tinges of gold sparkled against melted chocolate brown. They brimmed with happiness, curiosity bubbling just under the surface, while contentment flowed from his steady gaze. His eyes were twinkling with mischief, but exuded warmth and kindness.

Pureness and innocence filtered through his clear-eyed gaze, not quite understanding that Seto had spoken. But even if Joey had asked Seto to repeat it, he knew he couldn't have possibly done so. His breath caught in his chest at the power of the gaze that cradled his. Seto wanted to burst into a smile at the sheer exuberance of Joey's happiness—he was barely hanging on to maintaining the scowl on his face.

And then they broke their gaze. Seto didn't know who looked away first, and went on as though nothing had happened. But for Seto, it had. It refreshed his outlook on the seemingly obtuse blond, and forced him to reconsider the boy. And reconsider he did…

But today. Today, same as yesterday, these eyes that held his had none of the power or strength of will or even the slightest trace of happiness left in them.

Dull. They were lifeless, brown, chiseled orbs that someone stuck into Joey's eye-sockets, stealing his other, beautiful set of eyes. Only traces of pain and anger vibrated on their surface; the kindness and warmth seemed to have evaporated away. Anguish lit the barely burning fire in his eyes now. He could not believe that the deadened, exhausted gaze belonged to Joey. But it did. And there was nothing else in his eyes, nothing that reminded him of what Joey had been. Something in the vicinity of his heart twisted painfully.

He wanted the old Joey back.

Unanswered questions swirled around his mind in a dizzying frenzy. What happened? Had someone abused him again? Or was it something else? And why wouldn't Joey respond to him?

Everything about this situation felt off. And Seto Kaiba didn't like feeling off.

Something must be done, he concluded, for it was wrong for Joey Wheeler to act this way. Tristan, he could be moody at times, and Yugi was always child-like and innocent. But that look in Joey's eyes…it didn't belong there…along with another element that was present in that look they were sharing. But he didn't feel that it was as important as the larger issue at hand. He'd analyze that look later.

Seto started when Joey's eyes blinked back at him. How long had he been staring?

He quickly averted his eyes, and pretended that he was immersed in evaluating profits from the new brand of DuelDisks he'd released to the public last week. Hm…sales were up fifteen point seven percent. Interesting. Not.

Fool! What was that? What in the world possessed him to lock eyes for who knows how long with Joey Wheeler? Seto fought back a blush and pretended to look busy, his eyes scanning across a blur of numbers and letters on the screen.

He never blushed. He should be able to look all he wanted. He was Seto Kaiba after all. No one questioned him. He was always in control. And, well, if his pup thought it was weird, then so be it. There wasn't anything wrong in just looking, was there? After all, Joey was staring right back at him…And he could have merely been lost in thought and unaware that he was staring at the other boy. Right? What had he been thinking? Seto swallowed dryly.

Collecting himself, he directed his thoughts back to the main problem. Joey Wheeler, what in the seven hells is wrong with you?

Clearing his throat—and no, he was not nervous—he shattered the awkward silence between them.

-.-

Please don't kill me for leaving it there…And I'm super sorry for leaving that horrid ugly black hole of a cliffhanger for you last time…And this is what I do again…It's a wonder I have readers at all…Sigh…

But thank you for reading (and reviewing) my loyal readers. I'm amazed you've stuck it out with me this far due to my sporadic updates. I know I hate it when a writer leaves me hanging forever.

You guys are amazing. I really wouldn't have gone this far if it hadn't have been for you guys. You all give me the courage to keep writing, along with the motivation I need. So thanks once again, and until next time,

Mersedes

PS

I will try to update as soon as I finish typing up the next chapter. See, what happens is...is that I'm a perfectionist—so I have everything written out in my notebook, but when it comes time to type it up and post it, I'll take forever because I worry about everything; where's the proof you ask? Well, it took me an entire summer to type up and triple edit this part (and it's still not perfect). I'm still not satisfied, but I really feel guilty about leaving you hanging. It just isn't fair to you. So I hope this has appeased your appetite, at least for a bit you voracious readers!

PPS

Oh, and I hope you didn't mind the alternating point of view. Do you wish for me to continue in this manner? Or does it become too cumbersome and tedious to read?

Thanks! Hugs :P (yes, I'm one of those weirdos who hasn't gone over to the XD side yet…hehe, but we'll see…)