I'm rather surprised that I managed another update! Thanks for all of the awesome reviews, peoples! :D They've all been fantastic in helping me figure out the makings of this chapter! Also, I own nothing, except for Kit, Lucas, and Diesel! And another also, I do not own the lyrics or the song Swimming by Florence + the Machine!
When the group was back in the base with Sage, Vert was pacing. He seemed to be pondering his next move, glancing up at Kit every so often. The brunette was sitting atop the Reverb with Diesel at her side. Stanford was leaning up against the purple car, hovering close to Kit. "Alright," the blonde leader finally said, shaking his head. He looked up at Sage. "Are you sure about this, Sage?" he asked, hesitating. The Sentient being nodded and explained what she had explained to Kit at the beginning of this whole crazy mess. Vert turned back to the brunette, who looked a little nervous.
"I can leave," she said quickly. "I wasn't even planning on sticking around."
"You were here for a year without us knowing," Agura pointedly stated. Kit just shrugged and slid off of the Reverb, followed by Diesel.
"Wait," Stanford said, taking Kit's wrist. She stopped and looked back at the red head. "I should probably mention that Lucas told me you were here last week."
"You knew?" Kit asked in shock. Stanford nodded, still keeping a firm grip on her wrist. Diesel growled slightly, but he was ignored by the majority of the BF5. "Well then why didn't you say anything?"
"Why should I have to explain myself to you? You're the one who's been lying this whole time, and you forced Sherman and Spinner to lie, too," Stanford retorted.
"It's your fault this crap happened in the first place," Kit shot back, forgetting that everyone else was still watching. "If you weren't so conceited and selfish maybe I wouldn't have lied!"
"Me? Conceited and selfish? I think you're the selfish one!"
"OK, guys, we don't need to point fingers," Sherman started, trying to break up the argument. But of course, he was ignored, because Kit and Stanford were both too stubborn to stop fighting.
"How am I selfish?"
"You led Sherman on, obviously," Stanford pointed out.
"What? No I didn't! I never said we were in a relationship! Sherman and I are friends! And I know why you're too blind to see that because you don't have any friends!" Kit replied, glaring at him.
"I have more friends than you do. Half of the team could care less whether or not you were on the team," the red head replied.
"Like I care!"
"Well if you don't care then why are you still here?" Stanford asked hotly, but he realized what he had said. "Wait, Kit, I didn't mean it!" But the brunette had already started for the Clockwork. "Don't leave, wait!"
"You know what Stanford?" Kit started as she climbed into her car. "I'll be damned if I let you talk to me that way. So if you want me to leave, that's exactly what I'll do." She dropped into the car and closed the top, peeling out of the base as fast the Clockwork would go.
"Nice going, Stanford!" Spinner mumbled, folding his arms across his chest.
"Like you did anything to help the situation," the red head snapped. "I'll be up at the diner if anyone needs me." When Stanford was gone, everyone else was standing in a stunned silence. They hadn't expected that to happen.
"You know," Sherman finally said, "I don't think she's coming back this time."
Kit pulled into the diner, clambered out of the car and went inside. Grace was mopping the floor when she looked up. The black haired waitress was shocked but she ran over and hugged the brunette. "Where have you been?" she asked, holding Kit at arm's length.
"I've been here the whole time," Kit replied vaguely. "For about a year, actually."
"What? How?" Grace asked, sitting her friend down at a booth so that they could talk. Kit explained the whole story, including everything up until that point in time. Grace played with the napkins for a moment before looking at her friend, who was waiting for something to be said in reply. "I don't know what to say to all that… Stanford has this weird way of going about showing his feelings."
"Feelings?" Kit snorted, rolling her eyes.
"Kit, I think this is all just anger on his part. For the past six months, Stanford hasn't tried to hit on me at all," Grace replied, patting the table. "It's been nice to be able to just focus on Vert instead of having to smack Stanford out of the way all the time."
"That doesn't mean anything," Kit replied stubbornly.
"You are seriously blind, aren't you? Don't you get it yet?"
"Get what?"
"Stanford is either bipolar-"
"He is bipolar."
"That's not my point!" Grace said in annoyance. "My point is, something hit him hard. And last week he started acting normal again, and I don't know why."
"Lucas," Kit said in reply, rolling her eyes. "He told Stanford that I was here – last week."
"That's what it was. He was acting that way because he wanted to make you jealous."
"Why would I be jealous?"
"Katczinsky!" Grace exclaimed, using Kit's full name. The brunette's blue eyes widened for just a moment before she glared at her black haired friend. "If I were to start flirting with Stanford, you would be jealous. In fact, I'm pretty sure you'd haul off and hit me."
"I would not!" Kit said defensively. Right on cue, the red head entered the diner, a look of annoyance on his face. He saw Grace first but then he spotted the brunette, who was frozen. Grace smirked down at her friend. "You wouldn't dare do it, Grace," Kit warned, but Grace walked right up to Stanford and started flirting with the red head, and she went as far as even giving him a quick kiss. And even Kit couldn't deny that she was as jealous as jealous could be, and she didn't realize she was up on her feet until she was halfway towards Stanford and Grace.
The black haired waitress skittered away, just giggling at Kit's fiery glare. The brunette was ashamed of her jealousy as she elbowed the red head out of the way. How could she let it show? Stanford was nothing to her, and that's all he'd ever be.
But of course, Kit doesn't get jealous over just anything.
That night Kit returned to base, only to find Sherman working on the Buster Tank, as always. His olive green eyes were full of surprise as he watched her park the Reverb. She hopped out, dressed in her regular hoodie and jeans. She paused as she looked at the younger Cortez thoughtfully. Their gazes locked and both were stuck, standing in that position. Kit was positive that none of this could be real – how could it be? There wasn't anyone as good as Sherman and there wasn't anyone as rude as Stanford, but obviously her mind spun whenever she was around either one of the two.
"Need any help?" she asked finally. She felt like she was trapped in a freaking bubble because her mind was swimming and her vision was clouded.
"I could use an extra pair of hands. Spinner ran off to test out one of his newest video games."
"Cool," Kit replied, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. The brunette was at his side a few moments later, holding something in place as Sherman fixed it. Now that she was already lost in her ocean-like world, she couldn't control her feelings as well. She couldn't keep the cap on the bottle, none of it made sense in her mind. It was all just a blurr as she stared at Sherman. How could someone be this sweet and that smart at the same time? Not to mention the muscles and the amazing olive green eyes, but – Kit caught herself and shook her head again.
What was wrong with her?
A song popped into her head, weaving its way around like a snake. So, to take her mind off of things, she started to sing, putting all of the band's practice to good use.
"Your songs remind me of swimming,
Which I forgot when I started to sink
Drank further away from the shore,
And deeper into the drink…
"Sat on the bottom of the ocean,
A stern and stubborn rock
Cos your songs remind me of swimming,
But somehow I forgot…
"I was sinking, now I'm sunk
And I was drinking, now I'm drunk
I was sinking, now I'm sunk,
And I was drinking, now I'm drunk…
"I tried to remember the chorus,
I can't remember the verse
Cos that song that sent me swimming,
Is now the life jacket that burst…
"Rotting like a wreck on the ocean floor,
Sinking like a siren that can't swim no more
Your songs remind me of swimming,
But I can't swim any more…"
"What song is that?" Sherman asked, stopping what he was doing. "I haven't heard you sing that one before."
"Swimming," Kit replied, averting her eyes to the Buster Tank. "Fits my life so well right now."
Sherman just looked at her curiously.
Later that night, Kit was trudging down the hallway, heading for the couch in the main room. She was too exhausted to care where she slept – she could've slept in a broom closet, for all she cared. As she entered the main room, she passed by Stanford. Their fingers brushed as they tried to avoid each other, but sparks flew with just that one touch. Kit was left standing there like she had just been hit by lightning, dazed but alive, heart racing.
The red head stopped as well, and their eyes met. It was magnetism, neither party could tear their eyes away. Kit was confused as she felt her butterfly pulse against her wrist, as her mind spun out and crashed. She was mortified, at the same time. How could a feeling so great as this come from Stanford? He was a stuck-up, snotty little rich boy that bragged about his royal blood. This kind of feeling was only in fairy tales, so Kit tried to pretend that's all it was – an adorable little fairy tale.
Of course fairy tales are not real, and both the red head and the brunette understood this.
Finally, Stanford tore his gaze away and turned his back on Kit, hurrying down the hallway as if his life and well-being depended on it. So Kit did the same, tearing herself away from her spot. It was like pulling a piece of paper off of the wall – a piece of paper that had been glued down with extra-super-duty glue. She shook her head and tried to control her breathing as she headed for the couch, kicking off her shoes. She flopped down, still in her hoodie and jeans, falling asleep with a butterfly pulse and a foggy mind.
The next morning, Sherman placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her awake gently. She opened her dark blue eyes slowly, looking up at the olive green ones. Again, her mind started to swim, but she stood up anyway and followed him through the kitchen and out into the garage, where Spinner was working on the Buster Tank – or trying to work on it, anyways.
"Hold this," Sherman instructed, a soft patience in his voice. Kit nodded, still half-asleep, holding the piece that needed to be held. The younger Cortez brother started to fix it as Spinner played with Bigfoot, his goldfish.
"Jump through the hoop," the older Cortez brother prompted, but it wasn't working. And then everything came crashing down on Kit in one huge tidal wave. The feeling of belonging was incredibly mind-blowing. Just by being in the Cortez brothers' presence, she felt like she was back at home. It was like they had been doing this sort of thing their whole lives, when in all actuality they had only known each other for a little over a year.
And Kit averted her gaze and focused on the Buster Tank, but all she could hear was her blood pulsing through her veins and her heart beating out of control. It was like a dream – again, she couldn't believe that any of this was real and she was sure that she was dreaming. She pinched her arm and that's when she knew that she wasn't dreaming.
She hadn't realized that she was gripping the piece of metal this tight, until Sherman's warm fingers were carefully prying hers off of the metal. Her knuckles were white and she was surprised, but she was also too starry-eyed by the feeling she had now that Sherman had her hands in his. It was like fireworks had blown up and that's all she could see, it made her head swim even more than it already was, and feeling after feeling came rushing over her, bombarding her with emotions she never thought she'd ever feel.
"Kit," Sherman said, concerned. "You OK? You seem out of it."
"I'm…fine," the brunette replied, drawing her hands away from his and shoving them in her hoodie pocket. "I'm just out of it and tired."
Later that day, Kit walked around the kitchen table with Diesel behind her. She only looked up when another being entered the kitchen – it was none other than Stanford. They both stopped dead in their tracks, until the red head finally walked over to the fridge.
"I need your help," the British accented Reverb driver started, sounding slightly annoyed – which of course he was, more with himself than anything or anyone else.
"Uh…" Kit started, momentarily forgetting how to speak. Stanford's emerald green eyes did nothing to help the problem, as they locked gazes once again. "With what?" she finally managed.
"It's the Reverb."
"Alright, why you think I can help, I do not know…"
And when they finally reached the Reverb, Stanford pointed out the fact that the sound system was acting up and that he needed her to hold the speaker in place as he tried to fix it. She did so, and he got on his knees next to her, muttering a string of curses under his breath as he looked at it. "Try this," Kit said, remembering what she had seen Sherman do so many times before. She took one of his hands and placed it on the speaker, and he held it there as Kit took a socket wrench and leaned over his arms.
"That should do the trick," the brunette replied, looking at Stanford. But they both realized their faces were only inches apart, and that the gap could be closed at any given time. The red head leaned forward but Kit was already moving away, so he knocked his head against the Reverb's chassis. "I've…gotta go find and fix something…on the…Clockwork…" With that, Kit ran out of the room, leaving a confused and thunder-struck Stanford behind.
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